Reflection of His Enemy
by The Batchild
Summary: Eleanor and Bruce were friends once. Then he vanished. When he came back, he was different. So was she. A villain called The Doppelganger drew them together, exposed their secrets, and cemented their future. Does not take place in the Nolan-verse. More of a Batman universe of my own.
1. Under the Gotham Lights

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter One / _Under the Gotham Lights_

* * *

The screen of her computer hummed unenthusiastically back at her as she played with filters on one of her latest photographs. She was trying to put together an artistic composition of people in the parks of Uptown Gotham, but it wasn't working that well, at least not the way she wanted it to. She sighed loudly and plunked her head down on the keyboard, creating a symphony of angry beeps and expressing a great deal of frustration to no one at all, because the offices of Wayne Tower were normally completely deserted at this hour. She had only stayed late to finish some plans and displays for the next day's board meeting, but had ended up tinkering with her photographs on the more advanced programs available on her super-powerful work computer. This scenario wasn't uncommon with her.

Eleanor Black had just turned twenty-eight, and thoroughly enjoyed her job as a personal assistant to the man in charge of Wayne Enterprises, Lucius Fox, who also happened to be a dear friend of her father's. She made more money for herself by selling her photographs freelance to magazines, newspapers and art galleries. Not that she _needed_ to make any more money, as her parents, Liam and Naomi Black, were very, very rich and would happily give their daughter anything she wanted or needed; for her twenty-third birthday they had given her an insanely expensive loft located in uptown Gotham City, far enough away from the family mansion for Eleanor to feel free, but not far enough away to place her where most of the crime took place. She had to take the monorail train to work everyday, but she didn't mind. Eleanor just preferred to work for her money, like everyone else, she didn't want to be one of those rich people who was always like, "I'm so much better than you because I don't have to work." She had learned that state of mind from Liam and Naomi, who were both heads of departments at the hospital: Liam was head of Neurosurgery and Naomi was head of Cardiothoracic surgery.

But, even the chance to work, disregarded as the norm by so many, she might not have had if Liam hadn't found her in an alley one day when he'd been walking to the monorail station after a house call early in his career. Eleanor had been adopted by the Blacks and had no idea who her real parents were and no real inclination to hunt them down; her mother had abandoned her in an alley, probably because she had been raped. Liam and Naomi took great care of Eleanor. They always had. Why would she want to change that? Why would want to discover her real mother who could ruin her life? She was happy with her life the way it was. _She_ didn't want to change anything. Naomi did. Eleanor was twenty-eight and alone, save her red Siberian husky, Blaze. Naomi _desperately_ wanted grandchildren. And she pushed for them.

But that wasn't in the cards right now. At least not in Eleanor's mind.

Not that Eleanor would have any trouble finding a boyfriend. She wasn't super-model gorgeous or anything, but she wasn't ugly. She had rich, red-brown hair, intelligent cobalt blue eyes and a trim, curvy figure. She just had trouble keeping boyfriends. Eleanor was a little slow to trust and tended to be rather judgmental. She also enjoyed playing hard-to-get a little too much, and that was _always _a problem.

"How's your night going, Eleanor?" a kind voice suddenly asked to her right.

Startled, she pulled her face off the keyboard and looked up at Lucius Fox. He was smiling kindly, as was his nature, his wise brown eyes sparkling, and his snow white, pepper-flecked hair looking blue-tinged in the dim light from her computer monitor. "Fine, Mr. Fox. But what are you doing here so late? I didn't think you stayed any later than six. I didn't think anyone did…" she added as an afterthought.

He laughed warmly. "Usually, I don't, but I was just checking some things downstairs."

"Downstairs" meant what used to be the Applied Sciences department, but what was now a large storage room that held all the unused, un-bought, not-known-about-by-most-people gadgets from Wayne Enterprises. Lucius spent quite a lot of time down there, especially when Bruce Wayne dropped by; Bruce always left with a new gadget. No one knew what he wanted them for, but no one protested because, technically, they were his gadgets anyway. Wayne Enterprises _was _his company, even though he left the running of it to Lucius.

"Ah. I see," Eleanor said, inconspicuously pressing some keys to close the photo editing window and flipping a stray strand of hair out of her face. No matter how tightly she tied it back, some always managed to fall into her eyes. "Those plans for tomorrow's meeting are going… Uhm… OK," she lied. She hadn't worked on them since that afternoon.

Lucius smiled knowingly, and patted her on the shoulder. "Just keep working on them and make sure they're done for tomorrow. Don't stay too late though, Eleanor. I need you fully alert for the meeting." He started walking back towards his office, and then stopped. "Bruce Wayne is going to be attending the meeting as well, by the way," he said. With one more wise smile over his shoulder, his disappeared into his enclosed office.

Hm… Bruce Wayne… There was a knot in the relatively smooth rope of Eleanor's mind.

She had grown up around the billionaire as Liam and Naomi had been very, very close friends with Thomas and Martha Wayne. Her and Bruce were friends, but by no means were they _best _friends or even very close. No, Bruce's best friend was Rachel Dawes, whose mother had worked for the Waynes and who was the same age as Bruce; Eleanor was two years younger than the both of them. Eleanor was around Bruce a lot of the time now and, as they spent more and more time together, they grew closer and Eleanor thought that perhaps they were gaining the friendship they never had when they were young.

She had seen the most of him around the people who worked for him, and he generally pretended to be uninterested in the techno-babble, although it was fairly clear he understood every word of it, as he was a very smart man. Eleanor was also pretty sure he _was _interested in the workings of his company, even if he pretended not to be. On the other hand, she had seen him at the rich-people parties she loathed, and she could have sworn he was a different person. At those parties, he was completely… blank. There wasn't a trace of any genuine interest in him then. Everything was faked. He was always with two or more gorgeous models and always had a glass of wine in his hand. Which in itself was odd, because he never seemed to get drunk. He laughed at jokes no matter how bad they were and he discussed the trivial gossip rich people seemed to be so fascinated with. He worked very hard to keep up the billionaire playboy front for some reason.

And then there were the rare moments Eleanor got to see the "private" Bruce Wayne. She had only had the pleasure of talking to the real Bruce a few times before, but, as they became closer, she was realizing that he spoke to her from that mindset a lot more frequently.

But, no matter where he was, what he was doing, he always seemed to look brilliantly handsome, and Eleanor loved taking pictures of him, which she did at every opportunity she had; some of the pictures she'd made the most money off were pictures of him she'd sold to magazines. It was an artistic obsession. At least, that's what she kept telling herself, but deep down, she knew that she had feelings for him, she knew that she had had feelings for him for most of her life. But she justified that by saying every girl and every woman had a crush on Bruce Wayne, Gotham's most eligible bachelor.

Shaking her head, Eleanor forced herself to continue work on the plans, and to _not _think about Bruce Wayne. It would probably be in her best interest if she got what she had to done soon and then headed home. It was almost eight o'clock, and she hadn't eaten since noon, and she needed to tend to her dog. Blaze would not be happy with her, but he would be fine as soon as she took him for a w-a-l-k and gave him some food.

A few moments after Lucius left for the evening, Eleanor's cell phone rang. She jumped as the shrill noise rattled through the still, silent air and then dug the device out of her massive red purse on her desk to her left. "Hello?" she asked, holding the phone between her right ear and shoulder.

"_Ellie, honey! What the hell are you still doing at work?!" _

Eleanor didn't even _ask_ how her mother knew she was still at work. "Just finishing up some plans for a meeting tomorrow, mom. How are you?"

"_Oh, I'm just fine, except I never get to spend any time with my daughter any more! When are we going to get to go shopping again? Or spend __**any **__time together? It's been so long. You should come for dinner soon! Everyone at the house misses you…" _

"Mom, I'd love to, but it can't be this week. Wayne Enterprises has meetings with three potential buyers. I won't have any time to do anything for or with anyone but the company."

"_You're going to work yourself to death!" _

Eleanor laughed, picturing her mother, deep red hair and emerald eyes, all frazzled on the other end of the line. "I'll be fine mom. Why don't we plan something for next week? I'll meet you out front of Wayne Tower, we'll go and get lunch and then go shopping. Bruce Wayne's annual Halloween party should be soon, and I'll need a good costume." She knew her mother could never resist shopping, especially when it had to do with Bruce's parties.

"_Oh, that sounds great!" _

"All right, mom. I'll see you next Wednesday at eleven-thirty. Oh, and tomorrow at the party. I love you." As Eleanor remembered she had promised to attend a charity ball tomorrow evening, she cringed.

"_Love you too, dear!"_

As she closed her shiny blue flip phone, Eleanor laughed to herself again, and pressed on in her work, knowing she'd be done and home around nine. And at exactly that time, she stumbled into her open concept loft and fell onto the tan leather couch. A cold nose pressed against her cheek followed by a smooth, warm tongue. "Blaze!" Eleanor sat up and greeted her dog properly, with a great hug, a scratch behind the ears and a bit of a wrestle. "I suppose you want food."

She had grabbed a salad at from the late-night cafeteria at work before she'd left for the night and was full. After her dog had devoured a bowl of chow and lapped up half a bowl of water, she changed into a pair of black sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt and a zip-up sweater, put her MP3 player headphones in her ears, the player and her cell phone and keys in her pocket, hooked on her dog's leash and headed out into the mild fall air. Blaze knew the way to his favourite park – North City Park – and he led Eleanor there at a run, allowing her mind and eyes to wander, as she enjoyed the soundtrack from her favourite movie thundering through her head.

Before she knew it, they were standing by the pond, Blaze exhausted from running and lying in the long grass, watching the ducks swim elegantly by in the faint light from the nearby hotels. Eleanor looked across the water to the outdoor patio of one of those high-end hotel and sighed to herself. There was another rich-people party going on. She only attended a few of those parties a year, preferring to stay away, and she always went with Liam and Naomi, so she'd at least know two people; three, if you counted Bruce, because he was _always _at those parties. Generally, her friends were from work or the art community and weren't in to the party scene, although there were a few. Eleanor wasn't a big fan of getting dressed up for a few hours to go and "make a good impression" on people you'd probably already met and who probably already hated you and talked about you behind your back. If she had found one thing, it was that there was a large amount of rich people who were so bored, all they did was gossip.

Blaze barked, bringing her out of her thoughts and signaling he was ready to walk around some more. "All right boy, let's go…" She cast one last gaze towards the party before starting down the winding path through the tree-covered areas of North City Park.

* * *

Bruce Wayne smiled his empty smile at the model to his left as he spun her into his chest. Was her name Samantha? Or Kate? He couldn't remember. She laughed and tried to kiss him – an advance he blatantly refused by taking a long drink of the wine in his hand. As the song ended, Bruce politely, if a little drunkenly, excused himself and proceeded outside the patio for some air. These parties he attended exhausted him. But, if h wanted to keep his secret, he had to keep up his public image of "billionaire playboy" even if it tended to irritate the hell out of him. Good thing he was an excellent actor.

He leaned on the wide white marble railing, propping himself up with his forearms, and gazed across the river towards the park. Even though it was late and nearing complete darkness outside, there were still a good number of people moving silently through the shadows. One shadow – a woman and her dog, by the looks of things – had stopped directly across the pond and were turned towards the hotel. She seemed to be looking at the party, and Bruce mused that it was probably someone just wishing how much she could be invited to one of those fancy, rich people parties. Ha, how little she really knew.

Bruce watched the woman until her and her dog turned down the path. North City Park was the nicest park in Uptown Gotham, and he knew that the paths lead into brilliant landscapes during the day, but at night, they lead into a place where attackers could hide. He had this sudden urge to run into the park and tell her that she shouldn't walk into the trees.

"Bruce! Come back inside and dance!" his other model-date called from inside. Maybe she was Samantha…

He waved a hand at her, and turned to head back in, when the unmistakable feeling of being watched crept down his spine. Bruce turned and scanned the park across the pond and the gardens and trees around him, but saw nothing. Dismissing the feeling as an effect of the wine he'd actually drank, Bruce headed back inside.

Little did he know, that the source of that feeling wasn't the wine, but a small, slight woman who had hidden herself in the bushes, and was very intent on watching him.

* * *

Eleanor swung her comfortable boardroom chair from side to side as she absently listened to the droning of the man wearing the bad toupee who was standing in front of the projector screen, waving his hands about in an attempt to emphasize his point. Beside her, Lucius was paying a remarkable amount of attention to the speaker. He had an uncanny ability to listen only to the words someone was saying and not their weird gestures or the tone of their voice. On the other side of the table, directly across from Eleanor, sat Bruce Wayne, looking a little tired and _really _bored; she was having a hard time not looking at him. Every time he caught her eye and smiled, Eleanor felt herself blush slightly, but she never looked away, only returned the grin.

When the bad-toupee finally sat down, someone else from his company stood up and started railing off the financial benefits to Wayne Enterprises if they sold their products to them. As if Lucius didn't _know _the financial benefits. Wayne Enterprises had the best financial teams in America and they knew it. Eleanor wished she could fall asleep with her eyes open.

Finally, the meeting ended, and Eleanor headed towards the cafeteria for lunch, not really knowing what verdict had been reached.

"Eleanor," a familiar voice called from behind her.

She stopped and turned around, her hair brushing against her cheeks and smiled at Bruce. "Hello," she said. "What I can do for you Mr. Wayne?" _Keep it professional Eleanor, _she reminded herself, all too aware of her tendency to flirt.

"I was just wondering why you weren't at that birthday party last night."

"Do you even remember who the birthday party was _for_?"

"No, but that has nothing to do with my question. Why weren't you there? Liam and Naomi were."

Eleanor started walking again and Bruce fell into step beside her. This was the kind of chatter she liked to avoid. If she was going to talk to Bruce, she wanted it to be the real him. "I was busy with plans for the meeting. You know, doing my job. And you know how much I hate those parties. I only go to the ones I _choose _to go to, and I don't get so drunk I can't ever remember who or what the party was for." Bruce wouldn't have been drunk, but that wasn't the point.

"OK, fair enough. Will you be going to the –"

"No, I won't. The next party I'll be going to will be your Halloween party, Bruce. I've got two more meetings to finish plans for this week, and then I've got plans with my mom next week and _more _meeting to plan for. So no, I won't be going to whatever party you were thinking about."

"I think you need some time off."

"Huh."

Bruce followed her into the elevator and said: "You know, I've never understood why you work so hard for someone who doesn't need to."

The doors slid shut, and, as her luck would have it, her and Bruce were the only two people on the elevator. "I need to work or I would go insane. Not everyone has the mental capacity to sit around and do _nothing _all day and then go to parties all night, Bruce." She regretted saying that as soon as it was out of her mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. You're right," Eleanor said, looking up at Bruce, who was smiling down at her, "I _do _need some time off." The elevator stopped at the floor of the cafeteria. "I'll see you later Bruce."

He just smiled at her.

* * *

**Author's Note… **All right, so here it is, my new Batman fic. I'm restarting it because now it's better planned and I'll be able to focus on it more. I'll be working on this one at the same time I'm working on my new X-Men fic too. Enjoy.


	2. The Rich People Life

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Two / _The Rich-People Life _

* * *

When she awoke the next morning, much later than usual because it was her day off – she hadn't told her mother she had a day off this week because she really just wanted to rest – Eleanor smiled broadly, feeling more rested than she had in a very long time. Of course, the rested feeling wouldn't last long, because the other two meetings this week were tomorrow, but she could enjoy it while it lasted. Work had been taking more of a toll on her than she'd thought it had, and she mulled over the prospect of cutting back on overtime as she made herself a steaming mug of hot chocolate with milk instead of water. She didn't need the money, so cutting back would definitely be the best option.

"Now what should I do with my day off…?" she asked Blaze, who was sitting regally on the couch with his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth when she walked into the living room. "Should we go to the park again?" Eleanor received an enthusiastic bark at that as she pulled apart all the curtains, letting the bright morning light pour into the room. "All right, Blaze. We'll head out as soon as I'm ready," Eleanor said, reaching out to entangle her fingers in the thick red fur which should have been there. Blaze was already sitting at the door, staring at her expectantly with his blue eyes. Eleanor laughed. "Hold on!"

Like she did every morning, Eleanor turned on the television to watch the morning news, sat down on the plush couch, and sipped at her hot chocolate until it was cool enough to down in three massive gulps. With a bark from Blaze, she scurried into her bedroom to change into a pair of knee-length jean walking shorts and a baggy black t-shirt with a pair of evil-looking animal eyes and the words "does not play well with others" scrawled across her chest, and pulled her red-brown hair back into a low ponytail at the base of her skull. She slipped on her flip flops, pulled on the same zip-up sweater from the night before, and tucked her cell phone, keys and slim digital camera in her pockets as she attached Blaze's leash; her MP3 player went in her pocket and the headphones in her ears, music from another movie soundtrack blasting through her skull. They tore out the door a moment later, heading back to North City Park.

Eleanor thoroughly enjoyed her days off, as she liked having time for herself. She would go for walks with Blaze, eat a hot dog or three and ice cream from carts in the park, and take pictures of people also enjoying their free time. Her favourite place to sit was by the lake in the middle of the park, which was much more of an overly large pond. Eleanor liked to observe and take pictures of people and their behaviours; she liked to be around normal people doing normal things. She liked to play with her dog, and watch the children playing in the grass and on the equipment; she liked to think about having kids of her own someday. The park was a place for families, a place for couples, and even though she felt the most alone at the park, it was her favourite place to sit and to think about her future, about her life, about everything. She doubted that if or when she did have a family, she'd be able to sit like this and just do nothing.

"Well, hello Eleanor. Are you enjoying your day off?"

Slightly startled, she looked up to see her friend from work, Adam, smiling at her. He slid onto the bench beside her. "Yes, actually. How about you? Is this your day off as well?"

Adam nodded, still smiling. Blaze walked over to him and sat down, waiting patiently to be petted. He wasn't disappointed as Adam loved dogs, especially big dogs like Blaze and lavished upon him love and wrestling for the next seven minutes or so. "It's my first day off in three weeks," he finally said. "I've been so busy working on this confidential technology for the past few months. It was built in Japan, but they're having so many computer problems over there… I've been fixing them all remotely, and it is tough work. And it's not like I can ask for help, because it's all classified information, and I'm the only one besides Lucius who knows about it at Wayne Enterprises."

"I can imagine. I have a hard enough time sitting in front of my computer for a few hours… unless I'm working on my pictures," she added as an afterthought. "Then I can sit there forever."

"I know. I've seen you."

Adam was one of the engineers/computer technician/guys-you-called-when-you-needed-help-with-anything-electronical at Wayne Enterprises. But mostly he was an engineer, and he designed and built the crazy gadgets and things that Wayne Enterprises was famous for. Most of his inventions ended up in the storage room with those that did not get used or beyond the prototype stage, but Adam didn't care. He was a young, energetic laboratory rat – who also happened to be a genius – with bushy light brown hair and pale blue eyes. Adam was attractive, and he and Eleanor had dated briefly about a year ago. They had liked each other better as friends, and that was where the relationship stayed.

"Well, I'd better be getting to the store… I'm supposed to be picking up stuff so my wife can make some extravagant breakfast. See you tomorrow, Eleanor," he said.

They hugged and then Adam left and Eleanor sunk back into her thoughts. Blaze woofed a few moments later, pulling her from her sanctuary, and tugged on his leash, which was secured in his mouth. Eleanor took his leash off and let him run free for a while, before he bounded back, barked again and started walking calmly in the direction of home. She re-attached his leash as they exited the park and they jogged the rest of the way back to the building where her loft sat at the top - Parkview Towers, which was an accurate name, although she didn't have a view of North City park, but one of the smaller parks. In the entrance, Eleanor hauled her dog to a stop and got him to sit while she collected her mail from the overly large brass box with her apartment number etched elegantly into the front.

As she ascended the first five flights of stairs with Blaze trotting along in her wake, she flipped through the envelopes. "Bill. Bill. Bill. Junk. Oo, more junk." When she got to the fifth floor, she stepped into the elevator and rose up the rest of the way – an astounding ten stories she would _not _have been able to climb without dying half way up. She paused briefly as she stepped off the elevator when her eyes fell on the thick black envelope with her address written in gold ink that had been at the bottom of the pile of bills and junk mail. "What the hell? Oh, I bet this is the invitation to Bruce's Halloween party…" Her voice was excited, and indeed, that's how she felt, and Bruce's parties were the only ones she got excited about.

Excited as she was though, Eleanor waited until she was back in her apartment before opening the letter. Indeed it was the invitation she expected.

_Ms. Black,_

_As always, you are cordially invited to the  
__annual Halloween Party at Wayne Manor  
__on the evening of October 31__st __beginning  
__at seven._

_It is a costume party and extravagance  
__is encouraged._

_Rooms will be available at the manor for  
__those too drunk to drive home. Please RVSP  
__and we hope to see you there._

_Bruce Wayne_

Ha. The royal "we".

There was no way Bruce had written all of the invitations himself, which made Eleanor scoff a bit, but she gave no real thought to the fact. Alfred would have written all the invitations, because they were obviously done by hand, and the writing was _way _to legible to be Bruce's. Smiling to herself, she wrote the date on her calendar with the husky pictures, and then stuck the invitation to the fridge door with one of her silly-faced bat magnets. Quickly, she phoned Lucius and told him she wouldn't be able to work the afternoon of the party and he shouldn't count on her the day after, either. He had expected that as he too was invited, _and _he knew what happened to Eleanor when she drank too much red wine. They chatted idly for a few more moments before Eleanor ended the call.

She headed towards her massive bathroom, intent on having a shower, but as she walked, thoughts of Bruce Wayne shoved their way into her head. Eleanor imaged him at the party she'd seen last night, dancing with several beautiful women and pretending to enjoy every minute of their company.

He had really changed, she mused not for the first time that week, and not that it was her place to make that observation, but she had known him as a kid and as a teenager, and after the death of his parents, he had become rather angry and nearing a state of, what she thought, was depression. At one point, he had disappeared for seven years, and everyone had assumed he was dead. Somehow, Eleanor had known that wasn't true, but when the "Prince of Gotham" remerged, he was a totally different man, now happy and embracing his role as the owner of Wayne Enterprises and eager to get involved. He had jumped right into the party scene, and no one, save her and Bruce's childhood friend, Rachel Dawes, and no doubt Alfred the butler, had seemed to notice the difference. Not that Eleanor really minded, because people changed, and she knew that. Actually, since the change, she felt closer to Bruce than ever, especially since Rachel had distanced herself.

"Why the hell am I thinking about him?" Eleanor asked herself, turning the hot water on in the shower. "Stop thinking about him, Eleanor, God damn it. Think about what you're going to wear to the party. What should you dress up as?" She removed her shirt and then paused, looking at her reflection in the mirror. "And stop talking to yourself."

* * *

A fair distance away, in West Harlow of Downtown Gotham, at her own apartment, Rachel Dawes was flipping through her mail and finding an invitation identical to the one Eleanor had received. She too, pinned the black card on her fridge, but didn't think nearly so much about it or the party's host as Eleanor did. Rachel had known Bruce forever – actually, Eleanor and Rachel had both known Bruce forever, but Rachel and he were closer – and even though she wasn't much too pleased about the way he had changed, he was still Bruce, and he was still her friend. And she was going to his party. That was it.

She pulled a mug of steaming coffee close to her as she sat down in her favourite chair and flipped through that's day's paper. There was a big, colour picture of Bruce dancing with some skinny blonde at one of the high-society charity events from the week before. Rachel smiled to herself and sipped at her coffee. Her eyes flicked to where the name of the photographer was, and she rolled her eyes. Eleanor Black had taken the picture. Of course. The only photos one ever saw of Bruce anymore were taken by Eleanor, and Rachel wasn't going to admit it was because they were the best.

_I wonder if she's going to be at Bruce's party this year… Or maybe she'll come up with some dumb excuse again so she doesn't have to attend this year either… _

Rachel didn't know or care that Eleanor's reason for not attending the Halloween party the year before wasn't an excuse. Her mother had _actually_ been _very _sick with pneumonia, and her father had asked Eleanor to take care of Naomi while he was at work.

Rachel didn't like Eleanor much, and her dislike stemmed all the way back to private grade school where Eleanor had forced herself into her position of queen-like status quite readily and had found it amusing to pick on Rachel. Admittedly, Rachel had had the affliction of egging Eleanor on and taunting the smaller, younger girl, so she had obviously brought some of the torture upon herself, but the hatred of Eleanor and how she had behaved had never really gone away. Sure, Rachel could be civil to the now taller woman, but there was always something negative floating in the air between them and they never spent longer than a greeting's time in each other's company, unless they had to, and they probably never would.

_Ugh, whatever. I don't even care if she's there or not. _

Rachel, with one last, prolonged look at the photo of Bruce, folded the newspaper and headed over to her desk, where, with her coffee, she sat down to attend to her leftover work from a day as a district attorney in Gotham City.

* * *

_Hm… A party, eh? Sounds like a good place to get some information on the Prince of Gotham… Find out who he's close to… Who I can use… He doesn't seem terribly close to this one. There used to be something there, I'd say, but it's gone, whatever it was. _

Ashlynn Chiang slid down the tree next to Rachel Dawes' apartment and executed an elegant back flip onto the ground. She flicked her black hair off her shoulders and removed the surveillance goggles from her watery grey eyes, silently thanking God that she had been born with an unmatched ability to read people. Phase one, the information-gathering stage, of her plan was well on its way and soon, she should be receiving information about the technology being shipped from Japan to Wayne Enterprises in Gotham City. Her companions, her minions, her lackeys, would be the ones to steal the new machine, but she would be the one to use it. She _had _to be the one to use it.

The information she had gathered tonight was very valuable. All she needed no was to procure an invitation and find a costume.

She wanted her revenge against Bruce Wayne, and she was going to get it by destroying the people and the things he held dear, starting with the female who was closest to him. It had to be the closest female because of the technology she was using. Of course, if Wayne Enterprises had developed the technology to change gender as well as appearance, she would have become the butler first and destroyed him and his relationship with Bruce. Even though she couldn't change gender, she could _kill_ the butler as Bruce's closest female companion.

"Oo," she breathed, contorting her face into an expression of pleasure and admiring of herself. "That's a good idea. All I have to do now is find who that girl is." She put her goggles in her bag and moved back out to the street to head to her hotel. _Watch out, pretty boy… You're going to get what's coming to you…_

That night, the air was balmy and warm for mid-October, and Eleanor was able to eat her dinner from her favourite spot in her loft – from one of the wide window sills. The window was all the way open, locked into place and Eleanor was sitting with one leg hanging out, her foot brushing the brick wall beneath her. She shoved another mouthful of Chicken Caesar salad into her mouth and stared out at the dark rooftops of Gotham City. Uptown Gotham was relatively quiet that night, but she still found herself looking out for the shape of Batman leaping from roof to roof.

She did that quite often.

Gotham's dark knight, The Batman, was definitely an object of artistic interest for Eleanor. She would have _loved _to photographed him, but she never had had her camera with her when she'd seen him the few times she had, and she refused to take pictures with her cell phone. Her goal was to one day, take a front-page picture of Batman.

On the street below her, sirens suddenly blared and a black car went speeding around the corner and then right below her. Excited, she set her salad down inside and followed the car for as long as she could, and then did the same with the police cars. Her cobalt eyes scanned the sky, looking for any sign of Batman, but there was none. Obviously, he was down in midtown or downtown Gotham, where the crimes were more serious than a theft or something. He couldn't be everywhere at once, and Eleanor knew that, although she couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"Oh well, what can you do?" she asked, turning to look at Blaze asleep on his blanket on the couch and than grabbing her salad. Eleanor looked at the large clock on the wall above another window. "Oh shit! That party was tonight!" She had _promised _Naomi and Liam she would go to this one, as it was a charity ball for the hospital.

The clock said six-thirty and the party started at seven-thirty, so Naomi and Liam would be there in about half an hour to pick her up, and she wasn't ready at all. As quickly as she could without choking, Eleanor shoveled the rest of her dinner into her mouth, followed by a couple sticks of gum to ward off the garlic fumes. She ran to her closet and began tearing it apart, looking for a dress to wear that she hadn't worn to the last party or the one before that, or even the one before that. Finally, she found a bright blue, halter-style dress that fell all the way to the floor and had no back. She hadn't worn it in a while, so she tossed it on the bed before falling to her knees and digging around for a suitable pair of shoes. She settled for her favourite strappy black sandals because they looked good with everything. Moving at not-quite the speed of light, Eleanor changed into the dress at the same time she was moving into the bathroom to figure out what she could do with her hair and makeup. After maybe two minutes of deliberation, Eleanor plugged in her curling iron. She threw on her makeup in the best way she knew how, and, when she looked satisfactory, did her hair in the best up-do she could. Just as the phone rang – it was Liam and Naomi, letting her know they were waiting out front – Eleanor pulled on her shoes, shoved all she'd need in her purse and ran out to the elevator, barely remembering to lock the door.

"Honey, you look flustered. Are you OK?"

Eleanor smiled at her mother and nodded. "I'm fine. Just a little hurried. I, uh, misjudged the time I had to get ready."

"Well, you look great," Liam said, smiling his bright smile, his green eyes sparkling.

"And hon, Bruce is going to be at the party tonight, so you'll have to get one dance in with him." Naomi flashed a grin. She would have loved it if Eleanor became Mrs. Bruce Wayne, and she _always _reminded Eleanor to dance with Bruce if he was going to be at the party they were going to, and he always was.

"I won't forget, Mom."

The rest of the car ride was done in silence, Eleanor loving the luxurious seats in her parents' car. About halfway to the hotel, she realized she hadn't shoved her camera in her purse and mentally kicked herself. Oh well, no high society pictures for the paper this time. _Guess I'll just have to __**dance **__and __**enjoy **__it. _She internally shuttered. When the car finally did arrive at the hotel, party-goers were already flooding inside, and there was loud music issuing from the ballroom. As Eleanor stepped out of the car, she realized she'd forgot to grab a coat or something and mentally kicked herself again before hurrying in out of the cold.

The ballroom was alive with colourful dresses and shimmering decorations. In the middle of the dance floor, a spectacular fountain gurgled pleasantly, the water looking like liquid silver in the lights. In spite of herself, Eleanor smiled at the beauty of the hotel ballroom. As her parents headed straight to the dance floor – they both _loved _to dance – Eleanor made her way to the huge window, grabbing a glass of red wine on her way there and seating herself on one of the provided barstools. Normally, she'd be snapping pictures to pass the time, and she wasn't looking forward to actually taking part in the festivities, so she thought a few glasses of wine might be a good idea. When she was almost finished her second glass, Naomi came running over to point out Bruce Wayne who had just arrived, two gorgeous blondes hanging off his arms, and a dopey grin on his handsome face.

"Go dance with him, Ellie!"

"I will, I will. You go back and dance with Dad. I'll make my way over to Bruce. I _promise_." Eleanor smiled the best she could as her mother headed back to the dance floor. "Well, here goes nothing." She got to her feet, grabbed another glass of red wine and proceeded through the undulating masses of people to where Bruce was chatting with an older man who kind of looked like the mayor; never one to follow politics, Eleanor didn't give any greeting besides a warm smile. "Good evening Mister Wayne," she said, smiling at Bruce.

"'Evening Eleanor." He took the opening she presented. "Would you care to dance?"

"Love to." She took his offered hand and drained her wineglass as he pulled her towards the centre of the floor.

"Might as well appease your mother as soon as possible," he joked. "Just so she's not harassing you all night." Bruce laughed as Eleanor blushed, slightly embarrassed. "And how was your day off?" he asked as his laughter subsided.

"Great up until the point I realized I had half an hour to get ready for this party. I forgot about it," she admitted. "I wish there was a way I could have got out of coming. And," she paused, emphasizing her point, "I forgot my camera. So there won't be any front page photos of you in the paper any time soon. At least not ones taken by me. There will be _plenty _of photos of you floating around to grace the papers." Eleanor smiled a little foolishly. Three glasses of wine made her talkative. Not drunk or buzzed, just getting to that point. "In fact," she continued, "there will probably be one of you and me dancing on the front page tomorrow. I mean, considering you came with two beautiful girls who I'm assuming are models. And probably famous ones at that."

"No. I just picked them up on the way here," Bruce said, smiling sarcastically.

"Of course you did." Eleanor smiled back in the same way and looked over Bruce's shoulder to see her mother smiling widely, her green eyes sparkling. "My mother is official appeased, except she'll probably ask me why I didn't go home with you."

"Tell her it's because I'm too much of a gentleman to take a lady home when she's inebriated and take advantage of her." He smiled the slightly-crooked smile that was Eleanor's favourite and spun her outwards and then back into his chest. "I'm sure she'll love that."

"I'm sure she will."

They danced until the end of the song, when Eleanor kissed Bruce on the cheek and said, "See you at work tomorrow" and walked back to the wall, another glass of wine in her hand. Over the course of the night, Eleanor danced with several random men she'd never met before and with Bruce twice more. The billionaire spent a good deal of time quietly confiding to Eleanor how completely vapid the models were, but still managing to keep up his persona. When Naomi and Liam left around midnight, her mother did indeed ask Eleanor why she wasn't leaving with Bruce, and even though Naomi was just joking, Eleanor quoted Bruce exactly and laughed loudly as her parents both reacted rather funnily.

* * *

Ashlynn followed the woman dressed in bright blue to the door as she left. _Hm… I'll have to do some research into that girl. Her and Bruce seem to be good friends. _She stopped at the door, where a young man was standing in a doorman's uniform. _If she's at the parties a lot, maybe he'll know who she is… _"Excuse me?"

The man turned and Ashlynn guessed he was no more than eighteen. "May I help you?"

She turned on her most charming smile. "I was just wondering if you know who that woman in the bright blue dress was?" Ashlynn didn't offer any explanation as to why she wanted to know that information, but, when she smiled, no one ever asked.

"Oh, that was Miss Eleanor Black. Daughter of Liam and Naomi Black."

"Do you know if they're close to Bruce Wayne at all?"

The boy thought for a moment. "I'm not really sure. I think Miss Black is friends with Mr. Wayne. She works at Wayne Enterprises. I know their parents were close friends."

Ashlynn smiled, feeling like she'd uncovered golden information. "Excellent. Thank you." She headed back into the party. _I'll see what I can find on Eleanor and then the fun will begin. If she's as close to Bruce as it seems like she is, than she'll be the one to help me get my revenge. _A young man asked her to dance, and she politely accepted. As he drew her into his chest, Ashlynn smiled deviously, overly pleased with the way things were progressing.


	3. A Trying Experience

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Three / _A Trying Experience_

* * *

"Hello Eleanor."

Startled at the voice, Eleanor quickly minimized the internet browser to bring up her desktop featuring a photo of Blaze asleep on the couch; she had been reading the morning's news online, and the headline had happened to be about Batman's capture of one of the drug lords of Gotham on the island dubbed the Narrows. She was supposed to be cleaning up the financial reports her friend Shauna had sent her from the engineering department, and the problem with that was Shauna always gave Eleanor the files in a pile of notes and receipts and computer printouts. It was tedious and boring and she _always _slacked off. This time, Bruce Wayne had caught her.

"Doing a little research, are we?" he asked, sitting on the only empty surface of her sturdy desk, and smiling at her.

Eleanor laughed a little and smiled as she took in his immaculate grey suit and blue silk shirt; he looked positively wonderful and Eleanor blushed slightly. She was never going to live down the fact that she wasn't working. "Uhm… What are you doing here today, Mr. Wayne?" she asked, trying to sound professional. There aren't any meetings I've forgotten about, are there?" She swiveled her chair to better look at the owner of the company and tucked some of her hair behind her ear, smirking.

"No, you haven't forgotten anything," Bruce said. "I'm just here to talk to Lucius, but he's in a private meeting, so here I am, talking to you. You don't mind." It wasn't a question. He flashed his slightly crooked smile at her and gestured to her computer screen. "You never told me you were interested in Batman."

Eleanor blinked, caught a little off guard by the statement. "Well, no. It never really came up in conversation. But yeah…" She turned back to her computer and brought up the news page. "Actually, it's more of an… artistic obsession." She stared at the screen instead of looking at Bruce as she spoke; if she had looked, she would have seen him smiling smugly to himself. "He's so fascinating. I'd love to talk to him and find out why he does what he does. And, I'd love to photograph him. He's just so… different and intriguing. Not to mention, perfectly mysterious." She paused and sighed to herself, in that dreamland way only females are able to, and then shook her head and returned her cobalt gaze to Bruce, her eyes shining above flushed cheeks. "I must sound like I have a little girl crush on The Dark Knight." She leaned back in her chair and smiled warmly, if a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, you do," Bruce said, rising from the desk and placing his hands on the arms of her desk chair so he was leaning down, close to her, "But I'm sure lots of women feel that way about him." His voice dropped. "Although, I can't understand why, because anyone who runs around in a bat suit obviously has some deep seeded issues to work out."

She laughed lightly in reply. "Everyone has deep seeded issues, Bruce," she whispered.

A strange silence settled then. They were both technically orphans and that was what she was talking about. For a few moments, they stared into each other's eyes – not in the cheesy romantic comedy movie way, but in the trying to read each other's minds sort of way.

"Are you coming to the party?" Bruce suddenly asked, pulling them both out of their stupor.

Eleanor started again, and Bruce returned to his seat on her desk. "Of course I am. I always come."

"Well you didn't last year."

Eleanor gave him an indignant look. "My _mother_ was sick, Bruce. I would have come if I could have. My father wasn't there either, you know, but you're not harassing him about it."

"Eleanor, I was just joking around."

She huffed and playfully pouted. "I _always _come to your parties, Bruce. Provided there isn't anything more important to do. Your parties are the only ones I like going to."

"I know, but it's no secret that you don't like the party scene. I was just joking around _and_ I noticed you weren't at the charity dinner last week," he added almost as an afterthought.

Eleanor rolled her eyes and settled back into her chair. "Well, I'm not going to go to _every_ event that comes up. I went to one party last week. That's enough. That doesn't mean that I'm not going to attend yours. Your parties… well, I can't not go. I like your parties and if I didn't go, then I'd feel bad, because I've known you my whole life, and my parents wouldn't let me live it down." Eleanor fixed her cobalt eyes on Bruce. "And you _know_ that my mother is still trying to hook us up. Do you know what she would do if I didn't go to your parties? She was stuck in bed last year and she still chewed me out."

Bruce nodded in agreement and understanding, and Eleanor saw something strange pass over his eyes. Naomi had this intense desire to see her daughter become Mrs. Bruce Wayne, and she'd been trying to make it happen for a long time, before Bruce had disappeared and now, after he had returned. Bruce and Eleanor had politely put up with her comments and plans, humouring her, but nothing had ever happened. Naomi used every opportunity at parties to make them dance, just as she had last night, and, when the party was at Wayne Manor, Naomi got worse. But Bruce and Eleanor just put up with it. They were friends, and they could deal with it.

"Good morning Bruce, Ms. Black." Lucius Fox, the man who ran Wayne Enterprises, appeared besides Eleanor's desk and smiled warmly at them both, his eyes sparkling merrily as they always did.

"Morning, Lucius."

"Good morning Mr. Fox."

Bruce slid off the desk to stand beside Lucius; he was only very slightly shorter than the fatherly African-American. He smiled at Eleanor, who had also risen to her feet. "I'll see you at the party then, Eleanor?"

"Yes you will, although, depending on what I dress up as, you might have some trouble actually finding me," she joked.

"I'm sure I'll manage."

"I'm sure you will."

They embraced briefly, Bruce kissed her cheek, and then with last smiles all around, Bruce and Lucius departed leaving Eleanor alone to finish reading and staring at the news article. She'd start working eventually, but her mind wasn't really on anything she had to do or was pretending to do. Her mind wasn't even on Batman. Her mind was on Bruce Wayne, and the way they had talked and danced the week before, they way he had confided in her and they way they were growing closer together. Her mind was on how, since that dance, he had come to see her at work more and how she was so much more at ease around him. Her mind was everything and anything to do with Bruce Wayne, even when she knew it should be on something, someone, _anything_ else.

Her cell phone rang suddenly, giving her something else to think about. Eleanor fished it out of her purse and flipped it open, pressing it to her ear and holding it in place with her shoulder as she decided she needed to check her e-mail. "Hello?"

_"Hey honey."_

"Oh, hey Mom, what's up?"

"_I'm sorry honey, but I have to cancel our plans today. There's been an emergency at the hospital with a woman pregnant with triplets and the neonatal surgeon needs all the help she can get. One of them has a brain tumour and another has underdeveloped lung and the last one has its cord wrapped around its neck. Your father and I are going to be here all night." _

"Mom, Mom, it's fine. I understand. Go save lives. We'll do this some other time, then?"

"_Of course, Eleanor! I hope you get a good costume. Talk you later, love you!" _

"Love you too."

Eleanor ended the call with Naomi and stuffed the device back into her overly large purse. It was a common occurrence to have plans with her parents canceled. They were both doctors. They worked at the same hospital Bruce's father had which is how they met and became such close friends. Naomi and Liam continued their work with a passion unrivaled, and Eleanor suspected that its source had something to do with the loss of their best friends. In whatever case, Eleanor was used to having to readjust her plans, so it really was no big deal and she really would cope. She needed to go shopping today though, so she hailed a cab around eleven-thirty and set out for her favourite mall, the largest mall in Gotham City, on her own.

When the cab stopped outside the massive front entrance, Eleanor paid the fare and alighted inside, heading directly for the costume shop where she always got her outfits for Bruce's parties. The heat was on in the building, allowing Eleanor to remove her knee-length, black wool coat and stride around in her crimson sweater which exposed her elegant shoulders. The custom costume shop called simply, Costumes for Every Occasion, was located under a large skylight on the top level of the mall, and there was only one other customer when Eleanor arrived around noon.

"Ah, Eleanor, hello dear," the shop owner, Gloria Smith, a middle-aged woman with silver-grey in her golden blonde hair, said spotting her frequent customer. "I'll be with you a minute."

"All right. I'll just have a look through the books."

Eleanor, who came to the shop at least once a year, sometimes twice, to get a costume made for a party, seated herself in one of the cushy black chairs, setting her purse and coat on the floor, and pulled the massive reddish, leather-bound binder into her lap. She began flipping through, looking at the high-gloss images for some idea. She really didn't know what she wanted to dress up as. She had originally thought of going as a witch or a vampire, but both of those were too common. Afterwards, she'd thought about dressing up as a character from her favourite movie, but that was too obvious. She wanted something different and interesting. An image of a woman dressed as a sort of devil caught her eye. _Why not? A she-devil on the Devil's Night. _Eleanor cackled evilly in her head and smirked deviously outwardly. The costume the woman in the picture was wearing was… _It's too mommy-costume. Maybe if I skankified it a bit… _There would definitely be a fair share of scantily clad women at Bruce's Party. There always was. What would it matter if she let her usual, more conservative self go for an evening?

She flipped through the book some more, but wasn't really paying attention. The she-devil appealed greatly, so there was no need to seriously consider another costume.

"Thank you Gloria," a familiar, hated voice chimed from the back room. "I'll be back on Saturday to pick it up, then?" The voice got louder as she moved towards the front room, and, unexpectedly, an image of Bruce Wayne and the woman speaking popped in her mind.

"Yes dear, it should be ready then."

Eleanor looked up as the two women entered the front of the shop from the fitting rooms and workshop in the back. Gloria was walking beside Rachel Dawes, the one person capable of ruining Eleanor's day every time they saw each other. The dark-haired, dark-eyed, beautiful district attorney that Eleanor hated and who was always _there_. Eleanor rose to her feet, her finger marking the picture in the binder.

Rachel met her gaze as she pulled on her coat and turned to leave. "Hello Eleanor," she snapped.

"Rachel."

"So you are coming to Bruce's party this year," she observed, her eyes sliding over the binder in Eleanor's hand. She pulled her hair out from under her coat and mustered up the most indignant look she possibly could. "What are you going to dress up as? A ghost so no one will see you?" The smile that crept over Rachel's face after she spoke was not friendly. "But you did that last year, and you don't want to repeat yourself."

"I'm going as a devil."

"Oh, so you'll be the perfect compliment to my costume. You'll have to stand beside me so I look good." Rachel gave Eleanor that smug, tight smile that she absolutely hated and then paraded past her, making Eleanor turn to face her. "I'll see you at the party then?"

"I'll be there." A great tension had risen around the shop in the time the two women had been speaking, and as Rachel _finally _left, the tension fell away, and Eleanor turned to Gloria, smiling apologetically and respectfully. Eleanor was always respectful to her elders, and that did _not _include Rachel who was two years her senior, like Bruce. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Gloria. Rachel and I don't get along and we tend to forget ourselves. I apologize."

"It's all right dear." Gloria smiled and pulled the binder from Eleanor's hands, opening it to the place Eleanor had marked with her finger. "Let's see what you're looking at here… Ah, the she-devil, very nice choice. I suppose you'll want to make a few… _adjustments_?" Gloria asked, a knowing grin on her pleasant face. Eleanor always wanted to make adjustments.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

An hour and a half and an alarming amount of red fabric later, they had the basic costume design planned out. It consisted of a red vinyl corset with leather backing intended to make it more comfortable, and a see-through black halter top made of a soft, flowing fabric with ends that fell down to her calves; the fact that it was see-through didn't even matter because the corset covered her chest. On the bottom, she wore a short, red vinyl miniskirt that fell to the middle of her thighs with a daring slits going almost to her hips on both sides. Black lacing decorated the skirt along both sides, over the slits. Gloria sketched a design for a pair of elegant horns that swept back from her forehead and twisted upwards and a small pair of black bat-like wings that attached to the back of the corset. Red and black gloves that went up to her elbows completed the outfit as far as Gloria's work was concerned.

"If you want any other accessories, you'll have to get them somewhere else, dear. As well as shoes, but I know you have that covered."

Eleanor answered her with a smile and bid farewell, saying that she too, would be back on the weekend to pick up her finished costume, although she would have to come on Sunday as she had stuff to do for work. After voicing final goodbyes, Eleanor headed to her favourite shoe store to look for some shoes for her costume, as well as whatever else caught her eye. Eleanor had a thing for shoes. She owned nearly forty pairs as it was, and she knew it was ridiculous, but she loved shoes, and she bought a new pair nearly every time she went shopping. She encountered Rachel at the shoe store, again ruining her day.

"What are you still doing here, Dawes?" she asked, initiating the conflict like she usually did.

"Buying shoes. What's it look like Black?"

Eleanor followed the other woman's gaze to a pair of black boots with heels several inches high and belts around the ankles, which would have been perfect to wear with jeans or a knee-length skirt or… anything. _She's not getting those_, Eleanor thought, stepping closer to the boots.Unfortunately for the two shoe aficionados, they had the same size feet, and, of course, there was only one pair of the boots in that size. Eleanor reached forward and swiped them out from under Rachel's nose, then promptly sat down to try them on. _Please God, let them fit right! _Rachel fixed Eleanor with a glare for the duration of the boot try-on.

"Oh look, they fit!" Eleanor exclaimed, obnoxiously showing off her leg in the boot. "I think I'm going to buy them."

"You bitch. You knew I was looking at those."

Eleanor smiled smugly at Rachel. "Of course I did! Now, excuse me so I can buy more shoes."

As she pushed passed her rival, Rachel rolled her eyes and left the store. Eleanor, feeling satisfied even though their conflict was childish, purchased her boots, six pair of assorted high heels and flats, as well as a pair of red stilettos with curving black designs across their surface that were perfect for her costume. She walked out of the shop, holding her purchases draped over her shoulder. There was a smug look on her face that spread into a grin as she passed Rachel and the older woman followed her down the hallway, their boot heels clicking on the tiles.

"What was that about?" she demanded.

Eleanor turned around, her smug grin turning into the perfect friendly smile. She re-adjusted her bags, coat and purse. "Well, those boots were _exactly _what I was looking for, and I snatched them up first. You're just not quick enough."

"I didn't do anything to you."

She sighed. "Not recently, but I suppose you're right. Unfortunately for you, I'm in a particularly bad mood today and you have the amazing _talent _to push me over the edge on any day. So today, all you had to do was show up." Eleanor started walking again. "I'm not going to apologize and you're not getting the boots, so just… go away." This area of the mall was starting to fill up. A movie had just let out and people will starting to appear all around them, some of them were even slowing down to look at the two bickering women as they passed.

"Eleanor."

"What?"

"Being a bitch to me doesn't solve anything."

"No. It doesn't." The taller woman stopped and turned around, smiling smugly still. "But, it makes me feel so good!" Eleanor took in Rachel's stunned expression for a moment before she turned and walked into a nearby clothing store. Rachel didn't follow her.

Eleanor knew Rachel was right – that being a bitch wasn't going to resolve anything – but she didn't care. She completed her shopping by buying some new sweaters, a new wool coat, two new pairs of jeans and a bright red, long-sleeved nightgown, and some new jewelry. It was nearly four o'clock by the time she was finished. Lucius had let her leave work at eleven-thirty, so she called a cab and headed home. Blaze was waiting at the door to greet her, and after depositing her purchases and microwaving a frozen pizza wrap to carry with her, she attached Blaze leash and took him for a quick walk to the closer park: Yeavley Park. It wasn't as nice as North City Park, but it served well enough for Blaze's walk. When they returned to the loft, Eleanor wrapped herself in the thick blue blanket her Naomi's mother had knit for her and turned on the television. There wasn't anything of much interest on besides a rerun of a medical drama she watched whenever she caught it.

* * *

In a week, Ashlynn and her team had accomplished a lot. She had procured an invitation to Bruce Wayne's Halloween party and she knew for a fact that both Rachel and Eleanor were going; she had seen them in the costume shop at the mall. Much to her delight, Ashlynn had also witnessed the hostility between the two girls, and she had spent a good deal of time thinking of ways she could use that to her advantage. So far, nothing had come to mind. She had also done some reconnaissance on Wayne Manor and she was mighty puzzled by Bruce Wayne's frequent disappearances, especially at night, but that wasn't something she had to be worried about. At least, not yet.

She had just received word from her men in Japan that the container ship carrying the technology she wanted was now under their control and they were heading for the port in San Francisco. Everything was on schedule with Wayne Enterprises shipping logs, so they shouldn't set off any alarm bells.

"Everything is going according to plan," she mused to herself, reclining on the dingy couch in the dingy apartment she had rented in Downtown Gotham and flicking on the television; the tremors of bluish light were the only source of illumination in the small apartment. The news was about Batman, again. "God, I hope that son of a bitch doesn't get in my way. He seems to be everywhere in this God-forsaken town." A knock at the door interrupted her mutterings. "What is it?" she demanded.

"Miss Ashlynn, I've got news from Kim and the boys."

"Well what is it?" Because she was usually moving around all day, she didn't like removing herself from a comfortable position once she obtained it.

"They think someone aboard the ship might have got a message out before they killed everyone. Someone at Wayne Enterprises might know the ship's been stolen."

Ashlynn closed her grey eyes and pressed the heels of her hands into them. This was just perfect. "It'll be fine. Even if they found out the ship's been taken over, it's not like they can get anyone useful out there in time to stop us from getting away with the NanoShift machine." She sighed, knowing none of this was getting through the thick skull of her henchmen. Essentially, henchmen were useless beyond providing the muscle power necessary to pull off diabolical plans. "Just… make sure Kim gets away with the machine. If he runs into trouble, send in another team."

"Yeah ma'am."

She growled at the prospect of her grand scheme failing. Bruce Wayne _needed _to get what was coming to him, what he deserved. Nothing was going to stop her.

* * *

**Author's Note… **You'll find out what Ashlynn's got a pickle up her butt about soon enough, don't worry. Eleanor also meets Bats soon, so that'll be fun.


	4. All Hallow's Eve

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Author's Note… **In case people didn't get the memo on my profile page, I'm rewriting the five chapters that were posted before. So, you might wanna read them because things might get confusing later. Anyways, enjoy.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Four / _All Hallow's Eve_

* * *

Bruce pulled on the pristine, white button-down shirt with the most obnoxious ruffles possible, which was part of his costume, and studied his reflection in the mirror as he began to do it up. He was going dressed as Zorro, and since it was a masquerade party, the costume was perfect, as it already required a mask; that didn't change how much he hated the damn ruffles. To his right and a couple steps behind him, Alfred stood, holding the remaining parts of his master's costume, a normally placid and content look on his kind face. He was smiling with one corner of his mouth.

"How many guests are you expecting tonight, sir?"

Bruce frowned slightly in thought and then looked at the butler, shaking his arms to make the sleeves sit right. "Probably near two hundred," he said flatly, taking the offered coat from Alfred. "That's including those who will sneak in, of course." He quirked an eyebrow and a grin and shifted into the short black jacket and pulled it into place.

"Of course, sir."

Bruce fussed with the annoying ruffles in the mirror for a moment before once again, turning towards his butler. "I wonder how many paparazzi will be at the windows. Maybe we should get those covered…" The last was a thought posed to no one, and Bruce continued getting ready. He was concentrating on shifting into his billionaire-playboy mindset. Mindless and drunk. He could do that. He'd done it many times before. Sometimes it came upon him without him thinking too much, and he could easily maintain it for long periods of time. Sometimes, like right then, he had more trouble bringing it to the forefront, usually because there was something on his mind. And Alfred had an annoying talent of knowing when there was something on Bruce's mind.

"Are Ms. Dawes and Ms. Black attending this evening, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as the younger man retrieved the long, elegant cape from Alfred's arms. The butler's smile had turned to a smirk.

Bruce looked at Alfred, his eyes betraying his search for ulterior motives to the question. "Yes, they are. Why do you ask Alfred?" He turned back to the mirror and pulled the cape on over the jacket and ruffled shirt. He tied it securely about his shoulders, attaching it to the clips on the jacket to keep it from sliding back and choking him. While the butler answered, he fiddled with the way it sat on his shoulders, trying to make it look right. "Stupid costume," he muttered.

"No particular reason. Other than both seem rather…"

"They're just my friends Alfred. Perhaps the only real friends I have who are close to my age."

Alfred smiled rather smugly as he helped Bruce tie the black mask around his eyes. No words were spoken, but Bruce knew that Alfred wanted more than anything for him to find someone to settle down with, and to stop running around as Batman. On some level, Bruce wanted to do just that, but most of him wanted to – had to – keep fighting the crime of Gotham. The ideal situation would be to find someone he could tell his secret to, and not have it backfire on him. If he could find someone who would love all of him, someone who would keep his secret, and who wouldn't mind his escapades, than maybe, just maybe, he would be able to have the best of both his worlds. But, he didn't think that could ever happen.

"I wasn't suggesting anything, Master Wayne."

"Of course you weren't Alfred," Bruce concurred, donning his wide-brimmed hat and fastening his sword belt around his waist. "Now, let's head out and see what fools I will have to entertain tonight."

Bruce strode out of the study and down a flight of stairs to a balcony that overlooked the gold and black ballroom where the party was being held. As he entered, the music momentarily stopped and everyone looked up. He smiled his public smile and waved a greeting, and only a second later, the party resumed, and his greenish eyes were scanning the crowd, surveying his company. There were scores of witches and vampires and pirates – the usual Halloween getups. There was a scattering of costumes unidentifiable from his current height, but three in particular caught his eyes. A very trim woman was dressed as an acrobat, in a brightly coloured and likewise patterned, skin tight leotard, with a bizarre mask covering most of her face, and her very black hair was bound tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Eleanor and Rachel were both dressed in bright, attention-drawing outfits, but he could recognize them both; the latter was dancing with someone Bruce couldn't recognize while the former was perched dominantly on one of the chairs scattered near the doors leading out to the balcony with a characteristic glass of red wine in her hand.

Rachel was dressed in a sleeveless, floor-length, brilliantly white gown which showed off her form well, and produced a very elegant image; as she danced, she seemed to glide across the polished floors even through she wore strappy white heels. Wings cascaded from her back, and her dark brown hair was bound in an up-do supporting a shimming tiara. She had an opalescent mask covering her eyes and part of her nose, and had applied something to skin that caught the light making her look… well, angelic. Bruce thought the look suited Rachel, but it was something he had rather expected from her.

Eleanor on the other hand, was dressed totally opposite from the conservatism, the normality he'd expected.

She was wearing a tight red corset which succeeded in making her chest look bigger and – because it flared slightly over her hips – in making her form that much look curvier. A see-through black fabric looked sort of like a halter top which went under the corset, and the ends of which flowed behind her as she walked towards Bruce; she had begun her approach as soon as she spotted him descending to the floor. She also wore a red miniskirt with daring slits up both sides, held together with black lacing, and black thigh-high stockings. Her red high heels were decorated with black patterns and had heels about three or four inches high; the extra height made her legs look insanely long and model-like, but the shoes could not have been that comfortable. Red and black gloves, a long devilish tail that fell to her calves and bat wings completed her look, as well as dark makeup behind a horned mask; her red-brown hair fell about her face and shoulders in smooth waves. She looked positively _devilish. _And uncharacteristically sexy.

But, _damn_, she looked good.

"Would you care to dance?" Bruce asked, extending his hand towards her as she approached. He smirked, letting her know he knew who she was, and pulled her in close when she took the offered hand; his hand lingered on her hip as they began to dance. "You chose a… _courageous _costume, Eleanor," he said quietly in her ear.

"Glad you like it," she replied, flashing a slightly drunken smirk with a mood to match her costume.

She didn't seem self-conscious at all, which was odd. Normally, she was a little self-conscious and it showed. "How much have you had to drink, Eleanor?" he asked, dipping her as the song ended, and placing his face close to hers, seemingly to smell her breath. A Latin-sounding song started, and they automatically rose into the position for a faster dance, standing closer than they had been before.

"Not nearly enough. My confidence is wavering, and I'm beginning to realize what I must look like." She flashed her hand around the room as he spun her outwards and then back into his chest. "They all think I'm a whore or something equally… 'low class'," she said, laughing bitterly at her own sardonic emphasis on the last two words.

Bruce only smiled at her and offered a shrug in reply. "It wouldn't matter what you wore, Eleanor, they would talk about you behind your back anyways. That's just the way of the rich people, apparently. And you know you're adding to the scandal the more time you spend with me." A few moments later, they finished their dance, both smiling. A waiter actually dressed a penguin walked up to them and offered a tray of red wine, which Eleanor and Bruce both accepted; Eleanor took a big gulp as soon as the ample glass was in her clutches. "Shall we go out to the balcony for a moment?" he asked, placing a hand on the small of her back. When she nodded around her glass, he led her out there, keeping his hand on her back.

The lady dressed as an acrobat was outside, talking idly with a few other women. When they saw Bruce, they all giggled and left. Bruce rolled his eyes, causing Eleanor to laugh. Her laugh, unlike the giggles of the other girls, was a full an pleasant sound and it made Bruce smile.

"Some of your adoring fans?" she asked, leaning on the railing, and looking out at the vast expanse of Bruce's property.

"Yeah… Such is the price of being Gotham's most eligible bachelor."

Eleanor turned around, now leaning backwards on the railing and smiled at him. Her cobalt eyes flashed in reflected light for a moment, but even so, they stood out brilliantly next to thin red mask she wore. There was a slightly suggestive smirk on her red lips, and a suggestive air to the way her shoulders and hips were positioned and the way her chest thrust forth, all of which was probably fueled by the drunkenness. Eleanor wasn't an outwardly sexual person. She never had been.

"Is there a 'Mrs. Wayne' in the cards anywhere?" she asked.

* * *

Ashlynn smiled to herself as she watched from behind the pillar between doorways. The group of adoring young gold diggers surrounding her was the perfect cover for her voyeur observing, and no one had raised any suspicions towards her at all, because of her costume and the stolen invitation she had gotten her hands on. _Everything is going so well… _she thought to herself, placing her grey eyes back on the woman shamelessly flirting with Bruce Wayne currently. _Eleanor will do perfectly… They seem to be close, and there seems to be some sort of chemistry between them. I can use her… I'm __**sure**__ if I choose her, everything will work out better than I could have ever expected… _She flinched as a new woman joined their group – the one dressed as an angel, and who had had her eyes on Bruce and the devil-woman since they had started dancing. Rachel. _Oh, isn't she the jealous one? Maybe I can find a use for her as well. _Ashlynn smiled to herself again, and tuned back into the conversation taking place several feet away.

"I don't know about that," Bruce was saying in answer to Eleanor's question about a Mrs. Wayne. "I don't think I'm ready to settle down. You know me Eleanor." He let his voice trail away, implying some hidden truth only the two of them shared.

Eleanor rolled her eyes and pushed herself off the railing to stand closer to the billionaire. "You've disappointed me, Bruce…" A waiter walked by holding a tray of shot glasses filled with amber liquid – spiced rum. Eleanor took one and downed it in one go, put the glass back on the tray and smiled at Bruce. "I would have thought by now there would be _somebody_ you loved enough to have a family with them." She put her hands on his shoulder and sagged against him. She was very, very drunk, and as the waiters kept bringing more wine and shots, she kept getting more drunk.

"Oh really?" Bruce turned towards her so she was crumpled against his chest. He wrapped one arm around her waist and held her against him, probably so she wouldn't fall, although Ashlynn thought she detected another motive. "I didn't know you were interested in filling that role."

"I'm not. I'm drunk."

Bruce laughed, and sat her down on a nearby bench. "You just sit here for a while. Get some air. I'm going back inside to dance some more. And no more wine or anything, Eleanor. You're too drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"Sit. I'll be back out soon."

_I need to get more information on Eleanor. Maybe I can get a dance with Mr. Wayne, and pry some more information from him… _Ashlynn pushed rather violently past the angel-girl and stepped into Bruce's path. "Can I get a dance, Mr. Wayne?" she asked, sweetly as she could, batting her fake eyelashes and showing off her grey eyes in the best way she knew how.

"Of course."

* * *

He had never seen her before, this woman dressed as an acrobat. She came up to his shoulder, and was slim, but very flexible and agile. Maybe she really was an acrobat. She was a very good dancer, and she talked a lot – mostly asking questions – and she seemed content with Bruce's short answers, unlike most people. Her interest seemed to revolve around Eleanor, but Bruce couldn't be sure. If she was trying to get information on Eleanor for some reason – the only one Bruce could think of was that she was from the press and wanted to know the relationship details – she was doing a good job of disguising her motives by asking questions about the manor and the other guests. She didn't ask any questions about Bruce himself, and she hadn't disclosed her name.

"So, Mr. Wayne, how long have you known Ms. Black?"

"Twenty-eight years; since she was born. Her parents spent a lot of time here, so I saw her a lot."

"Ah. So life-long friends?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow in question, not for the first time this evening. "Miss, I'm afraid that type of question is one I'm uncomfortable answering. Eleanor is my friend, and I don't know you. For all I know, you're from the press and you're planning to write some damning story about her." He kept his mouth closed as they danced through the rest of the song, and then freed himself from the woman's grip. "Good evening, miss," he said in an overly polite tone.

"Evening, Mr. Wayne."

He was vividly aware of her eyes on his back as he headed towards Rachel. He had to dance with her at least once; she would be leaving before the rest of the guests, because she would have to work in the morning. "Rachel," he said, announcing his presence behind her. As she turned and smiled broadly at him, he said, "You look beautiful."

"Thank you Bruce." She took his offered hand and pulled herself closer to him. "Aren't you tired of dancing yet?"

"I am, but I can't leave." Using his head, he gestured to the guests around them. "I'm sure there's a lineup out there somewhere of women waiting to dance with me." They laughed for a moment as Bruce spun Rachel. "And I can't disappoint my fans. I'll end up in the papers _again_."

"I thought that was what you lived for," she said jokingly.

"Only partially."

They swept around in an arc and Bruce's eyes moved out to the balcony where he could see Eleanor leaning on the railing, no doubt watching the people walk around the gardens. Bruce sighed, and wished he could take her on a private tour of the gardens, show her all the places he used to hide when they were children playing hide and go seek… There were a lot of childhood memories floating around out there, but as he and Rachel started another dance, he was forced to remember that they included her too. Rachel was then, and, he guessed, still was his best friend. She knew _almost _everything about him and could read him better than anyone else, and, for a long time, he had always assumed they would get married, have children and grow old together, but now… now he wasn't so sure, because now, besides the Batman thing and his uncertainty of how Rachel would react to that, there was Eleanor.

"Bruce? Are you OK?"

He smiled down at Rachel. "Yes, just a little tired. Parties always wear me out." As their second dance finished, he stepped away from her. "I'm going to go out and get some air, all right? Will you be around much longer?"

She looked at the giant clock hanging from the wall. "No, I've got an early morning. I'll probably be heading home soon."

"Well, good night then," he said, bending down to kiss her cheek.

"'Night Bruce."

He started walking towards the balcony and, again, he was aware of eyes on his back, and he knew Rachel was watching him head towards Eleanor, and he knew she'd be silently fuming.

* * *

One of the studies in the manor, the one which had been Thomas Wayne's favourite, was lavishly decorated in rich and dark shades of red, gold, green and brown. A large desk sat in front of a massive window with a thin layer of dust covering the polished wooden top and the brass lamp sitting atop it. Against the back wall, beside a piano and a large, old, tarnished mirror, was a thick black couch that was very comfortable, if a little dilapidated from years of use. Across from the couch was a floor to ceiling bookshelf stocked with a collection of medical texts. Eleanor was lounging on the couch, significantly more sober than she had been hours earlier at the party – the party that, even though the host had left, was still raging on and would do so until the wee hours of the morning. She was slowly swirling a glass of wine in her hand, staring at the blood-coloured liquid with a tired glaze to her eyes. Bruce stood in front of the window behind the desk, his one hand resting on the full bookcase and his body leaning that way. He seemed to be scanning the dark early morning sky hanging over Gotham City for something, and he hadn't said a word since he and Eleanor had retreated up here about an hour ago.

"That acrobat-woman was weird," Eleanor drawled, wiggling her toes; she had abandoned her shoes and stockings upon reaching the study. Bruce mumbled a noise of agreement, which wasn't a satisfactory answer. "She seemed to be chatting your ear off. What was she talking about that had you so riveted?" Eleanor was being sarcastic about the riveted part, but she was curious about the topic of conversation.

"You, mostly."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I think she was with the press. I'll apologize in advance if any stories hit the papers." He turned and smiled lopsidedly at her. "Although, I don't think I said anything too incriminating." Bruce had taken off his hat, mask, cape, sword and jacket, and as he sat down in the chair opposite the couch, the ruffles on his shirt jumped up and down. "God I hate this shirt."

"It looks absolutely ridiculous." Eleanor took a long drink from her glass of wine, finishing it. "Oh, and Bruce," she said, setting the glass on the floor. "If there is a nasty story about me in the papers, tomorrow, I'll be very angry. I might have to hurt you." For a moment, she kept her face completely straight, as did Bruce, and then they both burst into a momentary fit of laughter. "Can I crash in that room down the hall from yours again? The bluish one?"

"Alfred reserved that one for you, actually. He remembered how much you said you liked it."

"Doesn't forget a thing, that butler of yours."

"No. He's the best."

Bruce's eyes went distant for only a brief second, but Eleanor didn't miss it. Alfred had raised Bruce ever since the Waynes had been murdered, and the old British man was as close to a father as anyone could get. Eleanor and Bruce shared something in the fact that they were both technically orphans, and they sympathized with each other – Eleanor with Bruce for having his parents taken away and then not having a mother figure, and Bruce with Eleanor for never having known her real parents and for there not being a hope that she would ever find them, if she ever wanted to.

"If you don't mind me asking, Bruce, is the anniversary soon?" Eleanor meant the anniversary of Thomas' and Martha's death, but she didn't want to say it out loud. She also didn't want to offend Bruce or anger him or anything.

Bruce thought for a moment, sinking farther into the chair. "Yes. It is." Another moment of silence. "Are you up for a walk, Eleanor?"

She nodded and sat up, slipping her shoes back on. "That sounds great. Just let me go change first. I might kill myself if I walk through the grounds in these shoes."

Eleanor got to her feet and proceeded down the corridors, following a path engrained in her memory to the room she always stayed it when at Wayne Manor. Alfred had already put her bag on the bed. It only took a moment for her to discard the costume and replace it with her favourite pair of jeans and a deep green turtleneck. She pulled on her small black running shoes and brushed her hair quickly before heading back to the study. Bruce met her halfway. He too had changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater, and together, they headed down the stairs and out one of the side doors. They cut a path across the expansive lawn, Bruce leading the way. They walked in silence until they were a lengthy distance from the manor, and Bruce took her hand and led her towards a small stand of trees; two dark shapes sat beneath the trees. Eleanor suddenly recognized the place. The last time she had been there, she had been seven years old, and it had been raining.

Bruce and Eleanor were standing in front of the gravestones of Thomas and Martha Wayne.

"Bruce," she whispered.

He didn't answer her. Bruce let go of her hand and knelt in front of the headstones, silently speaking to his late parents, as no doubt he had done before. Eleanor felt like she was intruding on a very private moment, and she kept wondering why he had brought her here. She stood behind him and watched as he gently ran his fingers over the engraving on the stones and she blushed a bit, feeling even more that she shouldn't be there. After several long minutes, he rose to his feet and smiled at her.

"Shall we continue?" He extended his hand and retained his smile as she grasped it. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Being here. Amidst the chaos of another Halloween party."

Eleanor blushed again, but this time she smiled. "Should I say you're welcome?"


	5. Adam's Information

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Five / _Adam's Information _

* * *

Her head hurt.

Eleanor rolled out of the massive bed and lay on the floor for a few moments, waiting for the room to stop lurching in time with her stomach. Her and Bruce had returned from their walk at about one-thirty and they had shared – although she didn't remember Bruce drinking that much – a bottle of wine. Combined with the alcohol already in Eleanor's blood, she became rather inebriated. When the bottle was gone, and it was nearing two-thirty, Bruce had carried her down the hallway, and after several suggestive comments from Eleanor, had maneuvered her into the bed in the blue bedroom she favoured. Bruce kissed her cheek before he left; Alfred had been dutifully stationed in her room until she'd fallen asleep.

"Oh God, my head…" Eleanor groaned loudly and sat up, leaning backwards into the bed and holding her head in her hands, massaging her temples in small circles. After a moment, the worst of the pain passed and she pushed herself to her feet and headed into the bathroom where she relieved herself, brushed her hair and washed her face. "I need coffee," she mumbled as she headed into the hallway, still dressed in her red silk, long-sleeved nightgown that fell to the middle of her thighs. "Where are those stairs?"

"Glad to see you're up, Ms. Black," Alfred said, appearing out of nowhere with a tray in his hands. "I've brought you some Aspirin and coffee."

Eleanor swallowed the Aspirin without the aid of water and then greedily sipped at the hot coffee. "Ah, thank you Alfred; you're a lifesaver. No wonder Bruce keeps you around." She smiled and wrapped her hands around the warm mug. "Speaking of him, where is he?"

"Master Bruce is still asleep."

"It's like…" She looked around for a clock, but couldn't find one. "Well, it's got to be at least noon by now. Did he stay up after I went to bed?"

"He had some last minute business to attend to pertaining to the party. He should be up soon. In the meantime, I've got breakfast ready downstairs," he informed her. The butler smiled, turned and disappeared down the stairs Eleanor was having so much trouble finding; she really hated being hung over – she _knew _where the stairs were.

Eleanor followed Alfred down to the kitchen. There were two spots set at the table, one for her and one for Bruce. The plates were piled with steaming pancakes and a jug of warmed syrup sat off to one side, and it smelled wonderful. Eleanor sat down, immediately digging in and complementing Alfred on his superior cooking skills. Somewhere in the middle of her meal, Bruce came downstairs, his hair a mess and that I-really-wish-I-could-stay-in-bed-all-day look on his face. He was shirtless, wearing only black pajama pants with bright blue spots on them. As he stepped into the light of the kitchen and smiled at Eleanor, she spotted several dark bruises decorating his flesh. Bruce wasn't a clumsy person, so she was curious as to were they came from, but for the moment, she didn't say anything, mostly because her mouth was full of pancake.

"Good morning, Ellie."

Still chewing, she looked at him suspiciously, but he just smiled at her. The nickname was special, intimate even. Only her parents and Bruce had _ever _called her that and he hadn't done so since they were little. "'Morning," she mumbled through her full mouth. As Bruce began to eat, Eleanor noticed a particularly nasty bruise at the base of his neck; there was something vaguely hand-shaped to the mark, as if someone had punched him there. She cleared her mouth with a gulp of coffee and asked, "Where'd all those bruises come from?" Bruce's chewing slowed and for a moment, she didn't think he was going to answer.

Then, he looked down at himself and shrugged. "I don't remember."

"You're lying."

He smirked. "Maybe."

She didn't push the issue. She knew better than that. "So, what does Gotham's most eligible bachelor have planned for today?"

Just as Bruce opened his mouth to reply, the phone rang. "I'm going to guess someone else has plans for me. Excuse me." He rose from the table, took the phone from Alfred and walked into the next room to take the call. Eleanor heard the greetings, some yes-ing and no-ing, and, just before he hung up, she heard Bruce laugh, and then he came back into the kitchen. "That was Lucius. He said Adam has some information I have to hear, and, apparently, so do you. We've got to go into the office today."

Eleanor groaned; ignored Bruce's laughter at her. "Did he say what it was about?"

"Nope."

Groaning again, she got to her feet. _It had better be important_, she thought as she thanked Alfred for breakfast. On the way back up to her room, she passed a couple hung-over party guests stumbling outside to their cars, and one who was evidently still drunk was puking the hallway bathroom. Suppressing her own gag reflex, Eleanor walked into her room, shut and locked the door behind her. _That was thoroughly disgusting. _She emptied the contents of her bag onto the bed, and proceeded to change from her nightgown into the dark-wash jeans and green turtleneck she had worn while her and Bruce had been out walking the night before. She brushed her hair and pulled it into a ponytail at the back of her head, applied makeup to hide the circles under her eyes, eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss. When she looked sort of like she was going to work, she shoved her things back into her bag, slipped on her black running shoes and headed back downstairs.

Bruce came down a different set of stairs a moment later, and he looked more like he was going to work, dressed in pinstriped pants and a dark blue turtleneck sweater. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Eleanor nodded as they pulled on their coats. Outside, Alfred had already pulled the car around to the front, but Bruce refused his offer to drive them and slipped into the driver's seat after opening the passenger side door for Eleanor. On the way there, they discussed what could possibly bring Lucius to call in the two of them after a night of partying, but they came to no conclusions. They continued speculating while Bruce parked and they headed inside, but stopped once they got into the elevator. The ride was only a few minutes, but it allowed Eleanor enough time to lean against Bruce and close her eyes, hoping in vein for a few moments of sleep. Her head still kinda hurt.

"You look like shit, Eleanor," Adam said as they stepped into Lucius' large office.

"Gee, thanks. Nice to see you too, Adam." Eleanor flung herself into one of the chairs across from Lucius. "Hey Shauna," she mumbled, spotting her dark redheaded, pale blue eyed female engineer friend in the other chair.

"Morning."

Once all the pleasantries had been exchanged, everyone turned to Adam, who was holding a few sheets of paper in one hand. Quickly, and with shaking hands – obviously, this was big news because Adam wouldn't be nervous if it was just _news_ – he handed one of the papers to everyone but Shauna, who no doubt already knew what the meeting was about. "We have a bit of situation, I'm afraid," Adam said, his voice quieter than usual. "A container ship was stolen en route from Japan. Now, it's not the ship itself we're worried about, it's what was on the ship." He gestured to the page he had just given them, which included a list of the important inventory. To someone who didn't work at the company, the information would have just been a jumble of numbers.

Eleanor tried to remember the last shipping order from Japan she had processed. No such luck.

"The prototype NanoShift technology was on that ship," Adam nearly whispered.

There was a collective intake of breath. Eleanor had read the file only once, but she knew how dangerous it would be if the machine fell into the wrong hands, and from the tone of Adam's voice, he definitely thought that the wrong hands were behind the theft of the ship. The NanoShift technology was being developed for espionage purposes, and it was one of Wayne Enterprises most hush-hush projects. It was needle full of nanomachines capable of altering the user's appearance, which always sounded great a first, but there were a few drawbacks: the user couldn't change gender, and their voice wouldn't be altered, so, unless they were really good at putting on different voices, they couldn't speak while they weren't looking like themselves. A series of qualities were inputted on a handheld computer and that computer programmed the nanomachines. Eleanor didn't know the specifics. She only knew it was top secret, and only three vials of the nanomachines were being shipping to America for testing. There were also rumours about serious side-effects from using the technology that Eleanor guessed were true. Normally, the technologies were only shipped from Japan to America once they were complete and bug free. Normally, no extra testing was needed.

This was big news indeed.

"Now," Adam continued before anyone could start seriously freaking out, "the GPS on the ship hasn't been disabled yet, so we still know where it is, and as far as anyone can tell, it's still following its route for San Francisco, but it's still several hundred miles off the coast, so that could change at any time." Adam sighed and leaned heavily against the wall. "The guard team's still stationed, ready to get it when it comes in, and we've already sent another team to assist them should things get ugly."

"We're sure whoever stole the ship wants the NanoShift technology, right?" Eleanor asked.

Adam and Shauna both nodded, but it was the latter who spoke. "The rest of the stuff on that ship isn't anything special. It's mostly armor and commonplace gadgets. There is some medical technology on board, but it's nothing that could be used outside of a hospital. The NanoShift technology is the only thing classified top secret, and the only thing that could be used in big crime schemes." She sighed as well, sinking deeper into her chair. "The fact that someone knows about it suggests it's an inside job, but that seems impossible. The team in Japan consists of all senior members of the company who have _never _had complaints filed against them, and the team here consists of Adam and me. And the guard team," she added, addressing Eleanor's unspoken question, "don't even know what they were supposed to be guarding."

Bruce, who was standing behind Eleanor with his hands on the back of her chair, sighed. "Do you think maybe the Falcone family is behind this?" he asked.

The Falcones were the organized crime family of Gotham. They had a hand in nearly everything that came and left the city and they had agents or someone they bribed in every level of law enforcement. They were virtually untouchable and usually had some connection to any of the big schemes in the city; it was only when other criminals like the Joker and Scarecrow started showing up that the Falcone monopoly on the crime industry began to slip.

Shauna nodded. "I've checked it out. None of the Falcones have left the city recently and neither have any of their lackeys. There hasn't even been any contact out of the city in the last six months." Shauna was an expert hacker with a particular talent for not getting caught. She worked quickly, and nothing had caught her yet. She didn't spend a lot of time hacking seriously. Usually she just left odd messages on people's computers and once she had orchestrated a war between the finance department and the materials department. It had been pretty funny. "The Falcones were my first thought too."

Bruce asked: "Do we have _any _ideas about who's behind this?"

"Well… I was kinda thinking it might be one of the _other_ criminals in Gotham. You know, looking for a fresh start to crime," Adam said. "Like the Joker or Scarecrow."

Eleanor shook her head. "They both rely on toxins, not this sort of thing."

"Oh right, I forgot we had an expert on Batman and his foes in the room," Shauna teased.

"Shut it." Eleanor swatted her friend on the shoulder, and then turned to look at Lucius, who up to that point, hadn't said a word. "What do you think we should do?" she asked, crossing her arms under her breasts.

"I think we should start a file – gather everything we know about this technology and follow the progress of the ship: that sort of thing." He sighed contemplatively and looked at Eleanor. "And, by 'we', I mean you, so you'll have to go downstairs with Adam and Shauna and get all the information they have sent to you. I'm putting you in charge of this, Eleanor, and I don't want the file to leave your sight. Take it home with you. And I want a hard copy and an electronic copy. Encrypted. Don't let anyone who's not supposed to see that file get their eyes on it."

"Right."

"I don't want a word of this getting out to the press," he said to them all. Everyone nodded. "Good. Adam, you're sure you and Shauna are the only other people in the building that know about this technology?"

Adam nodded. "Very sure. Positive."

"I'll double check the Japanese team, if you'd like Mr. Fox," Shauna offered. "There might have been a slip."

"Good." Lucius sighed, and something seemed to lift from his shoulders. His brown eyes were tired, but Eleanor knew, everyone in that room knew, that he wouldn't rest until this was under control. Lucius was not a man who let anything to do with the company out of his control. "You three should head downstairs and get started right away," he said, gesturing to Eleanor, Adam and Shauna. "Bruce, I'd like to talk to you."

Adam and Shauna left the office and Eleanor rose to her feet and moved to stand close to Bruce. "I'll see you later?" she asked, a smirk tugging at her mouth.

"Of course."

Eleanor pulled her bag onto her shoulder and left the office, smiling at her boss and at Bruce once more; she softly touched his shoulder as she passed. Adam and Shauna were already down in their cave of a department, seated in their overly large chairs in front of Adam's expansive computer set up which included five monitors and a super powerful tower with seven external hard drives and a bunch of other computer things Eleanor couldn't recognize. Adam had explained it all to her once, but she couldn't remember to save her life. She only knew enough about computers to use her own.

"What took you so long?" Adam asked once Eleanor had pulled herself into a sitting position on his desk.

"She was saying goodbye to Bruce Wayne. God Adam, don't you follow her latest crush?"

Eleanor swatted Shauna's arm again. "Would you just shut it? We've got work to do anyways."

"Oh, you're not denying it! That means you so do have a crush on him!"

"Shut your face Shauna."

"Right."

It took a long time to gather up all the information contained on Adam's super-computer. He managed to find the initial plans which he thought he'd lost, as well as every file that even just _mentioned _the NanoShift technology. Five hours later, they had almost a hundred pages of information which they separated into two folders once it had finished printing. Adam also put the information onto a flash memory stick for her to load onto her computer at home and so Adam could update the electronic files easier. When all was said and done, it was almost six-thirty and it was already very dark outside.

"I should be heading home now," Eleanor said, hopping off Adam's desk. "My Mom was supposed to drop Blaze off at six, so she's probably sitting at home, waiting for me to get back. And I'm going to have to walk to the monorail station because I'll bet you any money Bruce has already left and he was my ride."

"What a jackass," Shauna teased. "One of us could drive you."

"Nah, that's OK. I don't mind walking."

Eleanor smiled. She shoved the files into her bag and hugged both her friends. While she was in the elevator on the way up to the ground floor she pulled on her coat and shoved her MP3 headphones into her ears, allowing the instrumental soundtrack music to fill her head and block outside noise. From Wayne Tower to the nearest monorail station was almost a half-hour walk. The train car was dark – all the lights were either burnt out or broken – and there were only one or two other people inside with Eleanor; she couldn't be certain because of the inky shadows covering the inside of the car. One of the other passengers, a man, kept making odd noises, and those, along with a constant feeling of being watched started to freak Eleanor out. When the train stopped at her station, it was snowing lightly and she hurried down from the platform to the ground and off towards the apartment buildings, to where there were people.

She thought she heard footsteps behind her, so she turned off her MP3 player but left the headphones in her ears. There were footsteps. Someone was walking in pace with her. Eleanor's heart started to beat faster as she quickened her pace; one hand tightened on the strap of her bag, ready to swing it as a weapon if necessary. Behind her, the footsteps quickened.

_Oh God, he's following me… _Quickly, she turned the corner seven blocks before her home. So did the footsteps. _I've got to get where there're people… _Eleanor looked at the building around her. Either they were stores, which were closed, or abandoned or something else, but there didn't seem to be any lights on and there definitely didn't seem to be anyone around besides her and her pursuer. _Damn it… _Panic started to twist Eleanor's heart and lungs. She was having trouble getting a good breath and her heart was pounding in her ears; she couldn't hear the footsteps anymore. _Fuck. Stupid heart, stop beating so Goddamned loud! _She turned another corner and another and another until she didn't know where she was anymore, but she was still being followed. Just before she could turn another corner, her pursuer lunged and grabbed Eleanor by the back of her coat, using some immense strength to swing her around and pin her against the wall. Rough brick cut into the back of her head and the cold metal of a gun pressed against her side from underneath her coat. She bit her lip; tasted salty blood on her tongue. _I'm going to die… _

"Give me your bag," he said in a rough voice. "Give me your bag, any money, and jewelry."

She couldn't give him the bag. It had the files in it, and even though she doubted this man – unshaven, drunk glaze to his black eyes, mismatched clothes – would have any use for those files, letting them out of her sight was against Lucius' orders. She couldn't let him down. Eleanor swallowed her fear, mustered up confident look and said, "No."

He pulled her forward and slammed her backwards into the wall with enough force to make her see white points of light and to be sure the back of her head was bleeding. "Give me your fucking bag," the man hissed, spreading his alcohol breath all over Eleanor's face. "Or I'll shoot you and fucking take it." He slammed her against the wall again, and Eleanor momentarily lost her vision to blackness. "Now be a good girl and do I as say."

"Go to hell."

The gunshot was deafening. Eleanor closed her eyes, bracing herself for the pain she was sure she was going to feel, but nothing came. There was no warmth, no cold… _nothing. _She opened her eyes and saw why: the gun was no longer digging into her side, it was pointed up to the sky. There was a darkness in the street that hadn't been there before. And it was holding the man's wrist, pointing the gun away. Shadowed, dark eyes stared out from under a beast-like cowl and a low grumble was emanating from its throat. Behind it, a cape seemingly made of pure night constantly moved and flowed, even though there was no wind. And even though she was scared out of her mind, disoriented from the blows to her head, and this was no one to be smiling about, that's what she did. She smiled. She almost laughed with relief.

It was Batman.

He bent the man's arm behind his back, breaking it with not one but three wet cracks and then tossed the gun as far down the street as he could manage without letting go of Eleanor's attacker. With a shove, he sent the man stumbling into the middle of the street. Then, he turned his dangerous gaze on Eleanor.

"Are you OK?" he growled.

She wanted to say: "He smashed my head against the wall." but it came out: "My head… Wall."

He looked at her for a moment and then wrapped an arm tightly around her waist. His ever moving cape settled around her shoulders, and it was unexpectedly warm. Batman lifted his arm into the air, and Eleanor was dimly aware of a whooshing noise before they were both lifted into the air. She closed her eyes as he traversed the rooftops with her in his arms, finding the speeding scenery was making her nauseous. When finally it stopped, they were on the roof of her loft. Eleanor was shaking. Her head throbbed and she knew she'd have to stop at the hospital so her father could tell her if she had a concussion or not, but at that moment, she didn't care.

"Will you be OK?" Batman asked in his rumble of a voice. His cape was still about her shoulders and he had a hand on her waist, keeping her steady. It was quite obvious she was shaking.

"Yeah, yeah… I'll be fine." Eleanor looked into the shadows where his eyes should be. "Thank you."

He made no audible reply, just inclined his head a touch. "You shouldn't be out along at night." And he jumped off her roof, his cape sliding from her, sending a shiver down her spine, and when she ran to the edge to watch him leave, she couldn't see him. He had just disappeared.

She didn't know how long she stood there, on her roof, looking at the spot she'd last seen him. Her bag was in a heap at her feet. Eleanor didn't want the image of him or the feel of his cape to disappear, and as she stood there, she concentrated on making them stay. When she realized she was shivering violently, she forced herself to move, albeit slowly, inside. In a daze, she greeted her dog and then started running a bath. Gratefully, she slid into the hot water and savoured the pain as it thawed out her extremities and stopped her shaking. Blaze lay dutifully on the floor in the bathroom, watching her and licking the water dripping from the hand hanging over the edge. Eleanor tried to process what had just happened rationally, go through it step by step, but she couldn't; it just didn't seem real. And she couldn't get over the fact that she wasn't scared. She knew she probably would be later, when she tried to go to sleep, but right then, she wasn't. Right then, she felt like she could take on the world. Which was foolish, of course.

"I have to tell someone," she said to Blaze. Hopefully, she looked at the clock. It was nearing ten. "I'll phone and see if Bruce is home. I'll tell him… Although, he'll probably just laugh at me." Eleanor smiled to herself.

When she was sufficiently thawed and clean, Eleanor climbed from the tub and dried herself off quickly. She pulled on a pair of slightly baggy jeans, a black ribbed tank top and a black hooded sweater and ran a brush through her hair. As she dialed Bruce's number, she pulled her wet hair back into a ponytail and held the phone between her ear and shoulder as she fastened it with an elastic.

_"Wayne residence." _

"Hi Alfred, it's Eleanor. Is Bruce home?"

_"Yes, he is."_

"Excellent. I'll be over shortly. Just tell him I'm there when I get there."

_"Yes Ms. Black. See you shortly." _

"Bye." Eleanor hung up the phone and grabbed her bag. She removed the files and tucked them safely into the locked drawer of her desk. The only key was on her keychain, so she wasn't worried about someone breaking in. No one besides the four other people in Lucius' office that morning even knew she had the file. Satisfied, she shoved her feet into a dry pair of black running shoes and pulled her coat on. "Sorry Blaze, I'll take you for a walk tomorrow," she said to the husky as he sat expectantly at the door. "See you later." Eleanor shut and locked her door. She took the elevator down to the parking garage where her blue car waited. A little of the fear that should have been there appeared as she stepped off the elevator into the dark concrete structure so she ran to her car and locked the doors once she was inside. The sound of her engine starting echoed through the garage sounding much louder than it was and she drove quickly onto the snowy streets of Gotham, headed for Wayne Manor.

A thought struck her as she drove: how had Batman known where she lived?

* * *

**Author's Note… **OK, so just in case anyone's curious as to why this fic is in the category **Batman Begins **and not just **Batman, **as in the comics, it's for a couple reasons. One, it's because Rachel's not from the comics, she was made up just for the movies. Two, it's because this Bruce Wayne/Batman is the Christian Bale version, and I'm taking character cues from his performance. Three, it's because I don't know _a lot _about the comics. I have read quite a few, but they're kinda confusing. There are snippets of information from the comics, but nothing important.

So I really like this fic and I'm kinda upset that there aren't any reviews. I re-wrote the first four chapters, so they're better now. And this is a new one. I hope you end up liking this fic as I do. Enjoy.

**Next Chapter: Sort-of Dating  
**That's a weird title. I just realized that.


	6. Dinner and a Threat

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Six / _Dinner and a Threat _

* * *

"I don't care _how _you do it, ass, just get it done."

Ashlynn turned the cell phone off and shoved it back in her bag. She smiled at the lady and handed over her boarding pass before following the line of people and climbing onto the airplane and taking her first-class seat. She closed her eyes and settled back so she was comfortable and waited, rather impatiently, for the plane to taxi down the runway and lift off into the air. She didn't want to wait, but she had to. She didn't want to have to take a plane, but she had to; Ashlynn wished she could snap her fingers and _be_ in California. She didn't pay any attention as the flight attendant – a young woman with bleached blonde hair and took much makeup on her heart-shaped face – demonstrated how to save yourself in the event of a crash. Ashlynn had flown to many times to pay attention; she could have done the demonstrations herself, and she definitely had enough skills to save her ass and probably many others if the plane crashed. But she didn't want to think about that. All she wanted to think about right then was what she was going to do once she got to California.

She would meet her lackeys at the airport and they would take her to the shipping yard, where the ship would dock ahead of Wayne Enterprises' schedule and they would escape with the NanoShift technology in their grasp before anyone could stop them. The tests would be run in California, away from Gotham. Any personnel Wayne Enterprises sent, and they _would_ send people, would be dealt with in a swift and quiet manor. Since they didn't know what the technology was and they were only looking for the black crate it came in, it would easy to get away with the NanoShift technology. Once all the tests were done, and everything back in Gotham was in place, she would move on Eleanor. Then the district attorney, Rachel. Things were going so according to plan, Ashlynn didn't know how things could turn against her, but she wasn't stupid enough to think they wouldn't. She was quite aware of how quickly things could change.

"Excuse me, miss," the blonde flight attendant said, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Rum and Coke please." Ashlynn smiled as she accepted her drink, and closed her eyes again as she took long, slow, thoroughly pleased with herself. Soon enough, she would have her revenge, her justice. Soon she'd be able to move on.

As the plane leveled off, Ashlynn pulled her laptop out of her bag and turned it on, and as soon as it logged her into her messaging program, a window popped up. It was Finch, her second in command. He was panicking. Apparently, one of the crewmen on the ship hadn't been as dead as Ashlynn's men had hoped, and he had alerted Wayne Enterprises. Apparently, the men the company had sent where making for San Francisco double time and they would be there to meet the ship.

_Great. Just great. _Ashlynn mumbled curse after curse as she typed her reply: _Again, Finch, I don't care how you take care of this – Just do it. You had better have the technology when I get there, or I'll gut you and find someone else to take your place. JUST GET IT DONE. _His meek reply of "_Yes ma'am_" made her laugh. _God, lackeys suck. Why the hell didn't I do this myself? _Ashlynn groaned and slammed her laptop closed. She didn't even want to deal with this. _I can't do anything in peace anymore. Oh well, I guess that's the price for having an elaborate plan for revenge. _She wasn't particularity happy, but she smiled to herself.

* * *

Bruce pulled off Batman's cowl and set it on the desk beside his keyboard. There was a constant breeze in the Batcave and it chilled the sweat in his hair, on the back of his neck; it always felt pleasant after a night of patrolling the streets of Gotham. It felt even better after a night of crime fighting, but the only crime he'd foiled that night was the mugger who had attacked Eleanor. Bruce smiled, again wondering at the good fortune his sudden decision to check on Eleanor had brought him. But the happiness didn't stay long. There was the matter of the stolen container ship that kept creeping into his thoughts. Since he had only heard the news that morning, and he knew Lucius wouldn't have phoned the police yet, he picked up the cell phone only used to contact Commissioner Gordon and pressed the buttons for speed-dial. While he waited for Gordon to pick up, Bruce sat down in the computer chair and stared at the large computer screen in front of his, displaying the diagnostics of the NanoShift technology on board the container ship. He didn't have all the information at his disposal that Eleanor did, but he would soon.

_"What is it?" _

Dropping his voice several degrees and adding in Batman's growl, Bruce said, "Wayne Enterprises has had a container ship stolen. There is an experimental technology on board that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands. They've already got men moving to California to intercept the ship, but I don't think they'll have much luck. Anyone capable of stealing a ship is smarter than to get caught. There's a group at Wayne Enterprises keeping tabs on the ship and the technology. Eleanor Black is keeping all the information safe. I'm telling you this so you can help when they need you. I suspect that won't be long." He shifted in the chair.

_"Are you involved?" _

"Not yet, but I don't think I'll have to wait long for that either. I'll get Eleanor to send you copies of all the information."

_"Good." _

Bruce ended the call and set the phone back on the metal desk. He sighed and ran his fingers back through his hair and then pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. A headache was starting to pulse behind his eyes, and he knew he was going to have trouble getting to sleep that night. The situation was at that point where it felt like things could slip out of control at any minute, but you could never be sure when that moment would come. Bruce hated those situations.

Alfred cleared his throat from the elevator leading up to the mansion suddenly, startling Bruce. There was a small smile on his lined face. "Master Bruce, you have a visitor," he said calmly. "It's Miss Black."

He nodded, suppressing a small grin. As Alfred rose back towards the mansion, Bruce grabbed the jeans and black t-shirt he'd been wearing before going out as Batman and quickly changed. He put the Batsuit back in its cabinet before stepping into the elevator himself and rising into the study. Eleanor would be waiting in the massive library downstairs – it was her favourite room in the mansion – so Bruce headed down the stairs and through a small maze of hallways as fast as he could. He admitted to himself along the way that he was _excited _to see Eleanor just like he'd been _excited _to see her when he'd saved her life earlier that night, and he quickened his pace slightly. She was sitting on the window seat, excitement plain on her face and a restless quality about her; she was twisting the thumb ring on her right thumb and chewing on the corner of her bottom lip. Bruce couldn't stop his smile from growing. He knew why she was here. She was going to tell him how Batman had saved her, and Bruce never got over how weird it was to have people tell you things you already knew and have to pretend like you didn't know.

"Hello Ellie," he said as he stepped into the room, announcing his presence.

She gave a little start at his voice, but turned to look at him. Her face split into wide grin and she leapt from the window seat, landing in front of him. He noticed, that despite the chill in the air, she was barefoot. "Bruce! You'll never guess what happened!"

_Well, she's about as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. I guess going to check on her was the right decision for more than one reason. _He liked making her happy. "No. I'll never guess. What happened?"

"Batman saved me! Well, he stopped some guy from mugging me, but the guy had a gun jammed into my ribs, so I guess that counts as saving…" Eleanor paused only momentarily. "But I was _sure _I was going to die because the mugger was drunk and he smacked my head against the wall a couple times-"

"Whoa, what?" Bruce grabbed her flailing wrists and forced her to look at him. As Batman, he hadn't stayed long enough to make sure she was _really _OK. "How many times did he smack your head against the wall?"

"Twice."

"You could have a concussion, Eleanor. You've got to get to a hospital."

Eleanor pulled her hands away from Bruce and fixed him with a look. "I'm _fine _Bruce. Do you think I could have driven here if I _wasn't _fine?" She folded her arms underneath her breasts. "I just had to tell someone what happened, and you were the first person that popped into my head." There was a slightly annoyed look on her face, but there was also a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You're always the first person that pops into my head," she said, her voice dropping as her arms did. Eleanor stepped closer to him, tilting her head up to look at him; he was a couple inches taller than her, so the motion was necessary but also devastatingly effective.

Bruce ran his hand down her arm from her shoulder to her elbow, smiling the crooked smile he knew Eleanor liked. He gently squeezed her elbow. "I'm glad you wanted to tell me first, Ellie, and I'm sorry for doubting you. I just don't really want you collapsing on my floor or dying suddenly of a brain hemorrhage." He lifted his hand to her cheek and opened his mouth to say something else, but Alfred stuck his head into the library. "What is it, Alfred?" _Perfect timing, as always. _

"There's a call for you on the _other_ line, Master Bruce."

"Right." He turned back to Eleanor. "If you'll just excuse me for a minute, I'll be right back so you can regale me with your tales of rescue by the Batman," he said, retaining his crooked grin. Bruce stood there for a moment before stepping into the hallway and taking the small black phone from Alfred. He walked down the hallway until he was sure he was out of Eleanor's range. "What is it?" he asked in Batman's voice.

_"Lucius Fox just called from Wayne Enterprises. He's sending me an electronic copy of the files. I've been sworn to secrecy, but I think Fox knows you'll be getting involved now too." _

"Good. Keep me informed and I'll let you know if I get my hands on any new information." Bruce ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. He sighed and put his hands on his hips, thinking._ This is rapidly becoming a situation that's going to be very difficult to keep track of. _

"Who was that?"

Bruce turned at Eleanor's voice and his felt his eyes widen. He didn't ask how long she'd been standing there, because that would sound suspicious. If she thought there was something up, she'd be the one to say so. Eleanor wasn't one to keep her suspicions to herself. Not for very long, anyway. "No one important. Just someone from some magazine, I think. They're trying to get an 'in depth' interview or something since I started that new foundation a few weeks ago. I just have to keep thinking of excuses and blowing them off." He started walking back towards the library. Eleanor fell in beside him, smirking deviously. "What?"

"A reporter who needs _you _to give _them _information?"

He shrugged. It was a lame defense, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Instead, he just smiled the billionaire-playboy smile even though he knew it wouldn't work on Eleanor and sat down on the couch facing the fireplace – _What a stupid idea, having a fireplace in a library, a room full of flammable material_, he mused briefly. Eleanor sat down so her back was against the arm of the couch and stuck her legs out, lying them across Bruce's lap, and he placed one hand on her calf. A light snow started to fall as they sat there, smiling at each other. "Are you going to _regale _me now?"

She smiled. "Nah, I think you got the point. That I'm like, super excited."

"Of course you are. But you can't make a habit out of getting into danger."

"And why is that? You _know _I was planning on making my new hobby hunting down muggers and getting in fights just so I can see Batman again," she huffed sarcastically.

"What if Batman isn't there to save you and you get hurt? Then I might have to hurt him."

Eleanor scoffed, swinging her legs around and rising to her feet in one smooth gesture. "Yeah, OK, whatever." She flicked some of her red-brown hair over her shoulder and put her hands on her hips in a playfully defiant gesture. "Batman would _so _kick your ass."

Bruce suppressed the urge to tell Eleanor the truth. He knew her fairly well and he trusted her, but he didn't know if she would be able to accept it or accept him after she knew, and he wasn't ready to take the risk of losing her as his friend or… or as something more, if that was to happen. And he defiantly wasn't going to take the risk of putting her in danger by letting someone _that_ close. If any of Batman's enemies found out that she knew who he was, they would stop at nothing to get her to tell them what she knew.

Rising to his feet with a sigh, Bruce just shrugged. "If you say so." An idea popped into his head then. "Stay here. I've got something I want to give you. I'll be right back."

Without waiting for an answer, he left the library and hurried back up to the study where he took the elevator back into the cave. He was in the process of revamping his batarangs – he was adding a GPS sort of device to them so he could find them easier after throwing them; they took a long time to make, time he didn't always have anymore. He picked up one of the finished batarangs, and made sure the small blip was showing up on the computer screen. By giving this to Eleanor, he would know where she was. He realized that, even though he was trying to keep her at a safe distance, she kept finding ways to get closer, and he wasn't doing anything really to discourage her. He _wanted _her closer. Keeping an eye on her was the best defense. And he knew he wouldn't have to worry about her not taking the batarang with her, because she loved Batman. She would carry the small bat-shaped throwing star with her everywhere. Smiling, Bruce went back to the library.

"I found this at a party last week, in one of the hotel gardens." He handed over the batarang and smiled as he watched her eyes light up. "I thought you might like it." Bruce found it terribly amusing that Eleanor was speechless as she ran her fingers over the sharp edges. It took a long time to make one of the batarangs, since he did it by hand, and he was glad to see someone so appreciative.

Eleanor smiled up at him. "Thank you Bruce," she said, her voice no more than a whisper. Suddenly, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, standing on her tiptoes so she could more easily reach.

He hugged her back, the feeling there was something she wanted to say hanging in the air. Bruce didn't pry, he just pressed his face into the top of her head and held her close; he absently noticed her hair smelled like fruit. "You're welcome." Alfred stepped into the room again and Eleanor stepped away from Bruce, a look like she realized what he had been about to do on her face. Bruce rolled his eyes before he turned around. "Yes Alfred?"

"Ms. Dawes is walking up the drive, sir."

"Thank you Alfred." _What is Rachel doing here? _"Eleanor?"

"Yeah, I'd better go." She wrapped her scarf around her neck, pulled her coat on and slipped the batarang into her front pocket before doing it up. "I'll see you later?" she asked hopefully as she slipped her purse onto her shoulder.

"Of course." Again, Bruce flashed the billionaire smile.

* * *

Eleanor smiled at Bruce as she left the library. She couldn't help feeling a little robbed of what could have been a, well, wonderful night, but she also couldn't help feeling a little afraid. Better than most, Eleanor knew how Bruce acted in public. He never had a relationship last longer than a couple months, so what could she expect? Absently, she fingered the cool metal tool in her pocket as she walked down the front hall, thinking of how foolish she had just about been. She shouldn't start anything with Bruce. She shouldn't _let _anything start with Bruce because he would never finish it, he wouldn't commit; some part of Eleanor knew that he _couldn't _commit.

"Eleanor? What are you doing here?" The hostility was plain in Rachel's voice and in the way she stood, arms crossed and brow furrowed over dark eyes. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, giving her a slightly bird-like appearance.

"Just visiting a friend, Rachel." She didn't feel like fighting right then. "'Night Alfred," she mumbled on her way out the door. _I'm such a fool, _Eleanor thought. _I __**can't **__let this happen, but… _As she slid into the driver's seat of her car, her mind wandered back to how _good _it felt to be in Bruce's arms, and she smiled. _No, no, no. _She snapped herself out of the euphoric stupor and started the car, driving into the night, back towards the islands of Gotham City, back to her apartment, back to where she felt safe, stable ground. Back to where things made sense. And yes, she was aware of how ridiculous that was because Gotham City itself didn't make any sense. _You're a fucking idiot Eleanor. Just go home and go to bed. _

She grabbed her mail at the bottom of the stairs before stepping into the elevator and rising to her floor, the top floor. Blaze was sitting in front of the door, pink tongue lolled out one side of his mouth and a spark in his blue eyes. Grudgingly, Eleanor dismissed her dog with a pat on the head and headed past the partition to her bed where she deposited her purse, coat and scarf on the floor and fell onto her soft comforter. Slowly, she flipped through her mail.

Past the normal bills and piles of junk, Eleanor found a folded piece of paper with an elegant cursive script angled to the left. It was unfamiliar.

_Eleanor,_

_Please, enjoy your last few weeks of  
__freedom. Soon, you will no longer have that  
__option. Soon, you will be under arrest and you  
__will be confined to a prison cell, or, if you are  
__as close to a certain member of society as I  
__think you are, you may be confined to your  
__home. Regardless, you will not be able to have  
__any fun, so I advise you to make the best of  
__your life right now. _

_And you can gather any information  
__you want about the NanoShift technology, as  
__it doesn't matter. You will never catch me, and  
__once you and your district attorney friend are  
__behind the lines, there will be nothing you can  
__do to stop me.__So, by all means, figure out who I am,  
__figure out my plan and tell whoever you think  
__will be able to do something about it. You won't  
__figure it out in time. But I encourage you to try.__Have fun. _

Eleanor crumpled the paper in her fist. This was exactly what she needed. Threats. _Why the hell is this person involving me? What do I have to do with any of this? _The only connection Eleanor had to the technology is that she worked at Wayne Enterprises and she was in charge of gathering information on the NanoShift technology. Why would that warrant threats? _This is ridiculous. _She rolled over and pressed her face into her pillow. _I have to tell Lucius. And I guess it would be the __**nice **__thing if I warn Rachel. She probably won't believe me… Oh well. Time to be the bigger person, Eleanor. _She rolled back over and reached for the phone, but it rang.

She picked it up and lay back down on her bed, closing her eyes. "Hello?" she breathed.

_"Don't sound so happy to see me," _Bruce said.

Obviously, his mood hadn't been deterred by anything. Of course, he could be faking, but… "Sorry. I just received my first threatening letter. My former euphoria has vanished." The dramatic dialogue was intentional.

_"That's odd. Rachel got a threatening letter as well. That's why she came over. You were mentioned in her letter, but she didn't think you'd believe her if she told you herself, so she asked me to. I assume were you going to ask me to do the same?" _

"No." Eleanor sighed. Whenever it was revealed that her and Rachel weren't that different, it stung. "I was going to call her myself, eventually, but now it doesn't matter. But I _am _going to talk to Lucius tomorrow. He needs to know about this. And the police need to know too. Obviously, whoever stole the ship _is _after the technology and they _are _planning something hostile. I think they're after someone."

_"That sounds logical." _

Eleanor sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose between her finger and her thumb. She grunted softly when Blaze jumped onto her bed and flopped his head down onto her stomach. "Was the only reason you called to tell me that I was being threatened?"

_"No. I also called to ask you out to dinner tomorrow night." _

Caught a bit off guard, Eleanor choked on an inhaled breath, but managed to suppress any nasty coughing. "Yeah… I'd love to, Bruce." _What am I doing? _She closed her eyes again, tighter, and mentally smacked herself. She knew she was going to get hurt in whatever relationship her and Bruce formed. _The next little while is going to be very, very stressful, _she warned herself. "What time are you going to come pick me up?" she asked once she had recovered.

_"I'll be there around seven-thirty. I'm not telling you where we're going, but wear something nice." _

"Whatever you say." Eleanor knew she should have been happy, but she couldn't shake the impending doom of the threat. "Uhm, Bruce… Where does this leave us?"

After a minute, he answered with the three words Eleanor wanted to hear but was afraid to. _"Sort of dating, I guess." _

"All right. That's what I thought you'd say. I'll see you tomorrow."

_"'Night, Ellie." _

Eleanor hung up the phone and rolled away from it. Blaze shifted so he was lying more parallel to Eleanor, so when she put her back to the phone, her face was close to his and he licked her cheek from chin to temple. Smiling in spite of herself, she banished her big dog to the floor, and go to her feet to change into her silk pajama pants and tank top. It took her a couple hours to finally fall into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Ashlynn stepped out of the airport with her only bag – her carry-on bag – hanging off her right shoulder. A sleek black car pulled up and she slid into the back seat without a second thought. One of the men who worked for her – she didn't know his name – was at the wheel, and he didn't say anything as he drove off towards the bay. Ashlynn only hired stupid men to work for her. They were easy to control. Women, even stupid women, were catty and unreliable. The only smart person Ashlynn had ever had work for her was her younger brother. He was the one running things in Japan, and he would be on the container ship, overseeing the unloading of the technology.

The ride to the bay was done in silence, but once the smell of salt-water entered the car and ships started coming into view, Ashlynn couldn't help but get excited. She stepped out of the car as soon as it came to a stop, glad she had worn the light sweater, as there was a bit of a bite in the wind.

"Ash! Over here!"

She spotted her brother, Sam, waving his big arm at her. A smile split her face and she nearly ran over. "Everything going well?" Sam was the only person she ever spoke with respect to, the only one she never demanded things of.

"Perfect. Their breaking the crate out of the container now. We should be out of here in less than half and hour." Sam's dark eyes were almost black in the dim light, and they made his smile creepy. "I took some of the men and we took out the first team of men from Wayne Enterprises," he informed his sister, the grin on his face becoming more and more devious with each word. "I left the men on their own to track down the second team. They should be back before we leave. If they aren't, they have instructions to meet us in Gotham City."

"Excellent." Ashlynn's grin matched her brother's.

"Sometimes Ash, you scare the shit out of me and I _agree _with what you're doing."

Ashlynn laughed, _cackled_, and clapped her brother on the back. She liked that she could scare almost anyone.

* * *

**Author's Note… **God, so this one was a little labourious to get out. But whatever, it's out. I wrote this chapter through midterms, studying, Japanese interviews and a broken laptop. Hara (my laptop) is OK now, although I'm keeping a close eye on him in case he decides to crap out on me again. But now, all my files are backed up, so if he **does **crap out again, I'll just reformat him. Muwhaha.

And yes, I changed the name of this chapter because the mood changed while I was writing it and once I added in the threatening letter, I couldn't leave the title. The focus was no longer jovial.

The next chapter: **Stolen Millions**. And no, that title will not change. And yes, we're getting into the heavy action. And soon, (soon, like four chapters away), is when we get the **BIG **drama. And here I cackle. I like to cackle. It's evil and fun. Yes, I'm hyper and yes, I'm a nerd. Spuh.


	7. Gotam's Newest Criminal

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Seven / _Gotham's Newest Criminal _

* * *

"Anything interesting in the news today, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, setting the tray laden with Bruce's breakfast on the bedside table. "Gotham has been fairly quiet lately."

Bruce quickly scanned the small print of the _Gotham Times_, looking for an inkling of anything interesting. The butler was right – Gotham _had _been quiet. As a matter of fact, for Gotham, the city had been downright silent. Sure, there had been a gaggle of muggers, would-be rapists and murders, and a few attempted large-scale robberies, but nothing from any of the "freaks", all of which were currently in Arkham Asylum, no doubt plotting their next escape. It had been three weeks since Adam had relayed the information about the NanoShift technology, and the only news he'd heard that was anywhere near the caliber of what Batman was used to dealing with were the reports coming out of the western and central United States of bank robberies abound with strange circumstances: suspects disappearing right under the police's noses and reports of suspects changing appearance to name a couple.

He had thought of the stolen technology right away, and had notified Lucius, Adam, Shauna and Eleanor. All had had the same thoughts, and they were already taking steps towards trying to locate and track whoever held the technology. Whoever had the NanoShift was moving erratically, but there was no doubt they were headed straight for Gotham City. All of the men Wayne Enterprises sent out after the machine were either killed or captive somewhere because they never reported back, and, only a week into the debacle, Lucius had stopped sending men; he didn't want those deaths on his hands. There was no way to track the NanoShift itself, because once the needle was lifted from the crate and the fluid containing the nanomachines was injected into whoever was using it, it became just a needle. It was too easy to just take the three samples from the crate and leave the box on the ship, and that was what had been done. The only way Lucius and the others could track the machine was by keeping their eyes on the newspapers and the newscasts and make note on the large map in Lucius office where the strange robberies were taking place.

Gordon now had access to _all _of the information pertaining to the NanoShift, and along with his hand-picked team, they were also keeping an eye on anything to do with the technology. Unfortunately for all parties involved, there was nothing beyond watching and waiting that could be done. Authorities had been altered along the predicted path of the robberies, but no one had been able to catch anyone involved in the crimes.

"Another robbery last night," Bruce said. He took a long drink from his glass of orange juice on the try and climbed out of bed. He tossed the paper onto the blankets behind him and dropped to the floor to the run through his morning exercises. "In New York. They're getting close."

"Has there been anything pertaining to the threats Ms. Black and Ms. Dawes received?"

Bruce paused only briefly to shake his head. Rachel had been freaking out about the threat since she'd received it, and he knew she was probably frazzled beyond belief. Eleanor, on the other hand, and pretty much ignored the threat, but Bruce couldn't be sure that wasn't her way of dealing with extreme situations. He was having trouble processing why the threats had been sent and then nothing being done about them. Bruce figured it was to set the girls on edge, to shake them up and effect their thinking patterns. Whoever had sent the threats didn't want Eleanor and Rachel thinking clearly.

"There hasn't been anything yet," he said finally. "That doesn't mean there won't be."

Alfred nodded, stepped around Bruce and headed towards the door, where he would be out of the way. He seated himself in a chair that was against the wall. "It seems Gotham is going to have a whole set of new problems as soon as the thief arrives." He tossed the towel draped over his arm to Bruce as the young man rose to his feet. "I wonder what the papers will name _this _one," he mused.

Bruce offered a gesture halfway between a smile and a scowl – it was a gesture only he could manage – and wiped his face with the towel. He finished the orange juice and downed the protein shake, which was a strange green-ish colour, in one gulp. He sat on the floor and began doing sit-ups at a dizzying fast rate.

"Lucius called last night while you were out. He wanted you to know that Eleanor got a hard copy of the files to Gordon along with the electronic copy, and that he's the only cop who knows about it. He wants you to stop by the office at some point today as well. He didn't say why." Alfred waited for some sort of response before continuing. "Ms. Black also called to confirm your plans for dinner tonight. _She _wants you to call her back, as soon as possible. And no, you won't be able to see her at the office, because it is her day off." Again, he waited for some kind of acknowledgement before saying what was next on his mental list. "If I may be bold for a moment, you and Ms. Black seem to be spending a lot of_ time_ together."

Finished with his exercise, Bruce fixed Alfred with a look and one raised eyebrow, and opened his mouth to say something snarky, but thought twice and started towards the bathroom. He and Eleanor were sort-of dating, and as weird as that would have sounded to normal people, it worked extremely well for them. In the past three weeks, they had gone out a few times, and they probably would have gone out more had Bruce not had obligations as Batman to attend to. And, if Eleanor was suspicious of where he went or what he was doing when he said he was busy, she didn't say anything, and she didn't show it. She seemed perfectly content to see Bruce when she could. Their relationship was next to perfect, but Bruce knew, and he was sure Eleanor knew, that it wouldn't last like this, that it _couldn't _for very long. Eventually, Eleanor would want to know what he was doing, and, by then, Bruce would feel obliged to tell her the truth. And then, then… he wasn't sure what would happen.

"I'll call her on the way to Wayne Enterprises," Bruce called over his shoulder. As he started the water for his shower, he could picture Alfred smiling and shaking his head and he left the room.

About forty-five minutes later, clean and dressed in one of the perfectly tailored suits that was the wardrobe of the public Bruce Wayne, he was in the car, headed for the unofficial centre of Gotham City. Alfred, from his spot behind the wheel, reminded Bruce immediately to phone Eleanor. He took the offered cell phone and dialed Eleanor's mobile number, knowing full well that she wouldn't be at home. It was sunny and bright, and even though it was chilly, it was bearable, and she would be at the park with her dog. After three rings, Eleanor answered.

_"Hello?" _

"Hello Eleanor. I've been insistently informed and reminded to return your call." He could _hear _her smiling.

_"Tell Alfred I say thanks." _There was a brief pause as she laughed. _"So, are we still on for dinner tonight, or has __**something **__come up?" _That was the closest she'd ever come to sounding suspicious.

"We're still on for dinner. I'll pick you up at seven, OK?"

_"That's what we agreed on last week when we originally planned to go out for dinner. But, yeah, I'll be ready." _There was a loud bark in the background, and Bruce heard Eleanor shuffle a bit, no doubt trying to attach Blaze's leash while maintaining a grip of some kind on her phone. _"Well, I'll see you later then. Blaze is getting impatient, and my phone battery's getting low." _

"All right. See you then." He ended the call and handed the phone back to Alfred, who had his hand out, waiting. "Eleanor wants to thank you for your persistence, by the way."

"It was no trouble at all, Master Bruce."

* * *

Ashlynn looked down at her hands and frowned in disgust as the skin bubbled before her eyes. It had started doing that after their third bank robbery in Colorado, and her only guess, which she was sure was the right one, was that it was some side effect of the liquid she had injected into herself back in California. The only other person who had seen this unfortunate turn was Sam, and he had promised his sister he wouldn't tell, and he also promised that once they got to Gotham, he would find someone to make a cure for her. But, as of right then, it wasn't painful, so she could deal with the awkward feeling of having your skin trying to expand and contract and shift all at the same time. The fact that all of their robberies had gone off without a hitch was helping her mood immensely, and she was eager to get to Gotham, where she could test her skills in the territory of The Batman.

A knock at her hotel door startled her. She pulled her turtleneck's sleeves down over her hands and barked, "Come in." When Finch appeared, she frowned more, and growled slightly in her throat. "What is it, Finch?" she snapped, balling her hands into tight fists at her sides. Another side effect seemed to be nasty moods, but that was something those around Ashlynn were used to, so no one had noticed those. Yet.

"Everything is set. We're ready to move on Gotham."

A devious smile slit Ashlynn's face in two. "Excellent." She maintained the supremely creepy gesture as the henchman disappeared into the hallway, and as she began to gather up her small amount of possessions. Things were just going peachy. Soon, she would put her plan for the ultimate revenge in motion.

Revenge for her neighbourhood.

For her family.

For herself.

She was twelve when it happened, Sam was sixteen. They had just moved to China from California, where their Chinese father and American mother had raised them, and they had settled into a very good life. Ashlynn and Sam were happy. But it didn't even last a year. The factory nearby which supplied most of the work for the people in their area exploded – a company that manufactured heavy arms, belonging to Wayne Enterprises exploded because of faulty machinery from other Wayne companies in America. Thousands of people died. Many, many more were severely injured. Many families had been destroyed and many lives were ruined. Sam and Ashlynn had lost their parents, their friends and their whole life because someone at Wayne Enterprises had _missed _the fault in the machinery.

So they left; headed for Hong Kong, where their sole relative, an aunt, lived. Ashlynn, who was the brains in the sibling duo, researched Wayne Enterprises and found herself and her brother someone to blame. Bruce Wayne. It had taken years for her to forge the necessary bonds, find the needed tools and build the perfect plan to exact her revenge upon the billionaire, Gotham's favoured son, but all that time had paid off and Ashlynn was pleased with herself.

Another knock at the door. "_What?_" she barked again, this time _a lot _less friendly.

"Whoa, it's just me, Ash," Sam said as he shut the door behind him. There was an excited quality in his voice, and the faintest of glint in his watery gray eyes.

She sighed. That was as much of an apology as anyone got.

"The car's out front. We're just waiting for you to head out and we'll follow." By "we", he meant the henchmen, which Sam had appointed himself captain of, and he was doing an excellent job of holding that post, but Ashlynn would never tell him that.

"I'll be down in a minute."

In less than the mentioned time, Ashlynn climbed into the sleek black sedan – her car of choice because it was inconspicuous on top of being a decent vehicle and able to get her from point A to point B. Finch nodded once from his place behind the wheel, and then stuck his arm out the window and waved it forward, signaling to the other cars, placed around the area in a way so they wouldn't look like the mob they were, to move out.

Ashlynn grimaced as her skin continued to bubble beneath her sweater.

* * *

"Can we _not _talk about work _at all_? _**Please?**_" Eleanor put a pleading look into her eyes as she pulled another bite of steak off her fork. Bruce, sitting across the table from her gave her a look, prompting her to continue speaking, allowing her to pick the topic of conversation. "So what? I have to provide the conversation _and _the company?" she asked, smirking slightly.

"I'm tempted to say 'yes'."

Eleanor suppressed the childish urge to throw her napkin at him, and settled for a playful glare. They were, after all, sitting at the best table in one of the most expensive, highest-class restaurants in Gotham City, and she had a feeling such a display would not be very welcome. This was the second time her and Bruce had come to this restaurant – she thought it was called _Basics_, but she couldn't be sure – and she still couldn't get over how dressed up some people got to go out for dinner. Granted, she _was _wearing a dress, knee-length and the colour of red wine, and she _was _made up, but some of the women still made her look like she was dressed in rags. Bruce, a master of fitting into his billionaire society, was dressed to the nines and looked brilliantly handsome, as usual.

"Well, _fine_." Eleanor took a lengthy sip from her glass of wine, and opened her mouth to say something, but there was a loud thud from the direction of the front doors, and the host flew into the main dining room. "What the hell?" Her and Bruce exchanged confused looks as she tossed her napkin on the table and rose to her feet.

Bruce rose to his feet as well. "Eleanor, I think you should get out of here."

"What?"

Five large men barreled into the dining room after the host, brandishing weapons and fierce snarls. The smallest man, who was so obviously in charge of the others, stepped forward and pointed his gun at the forehead of a nearby diner: a middle-aged woman who promptly began to sweat and shake fear; Eleanor could faintly hear her muttering "Please don't kill me" over and over again. Her pleas fell on deaf ears.

"We want jewels, money and anything else of value."

A young man seated beside the woman stood up, protest in his eyes. The man with the gun shot him. Blood sprayed over anyone close enough and several people screamed. Eleanor stood, mouth gaping.

"Anyone else got anything to say?"

"Eleanor," Bruce hissed. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her backwards, towards the kitchen. "If we go out the back, we should be able to get away safely."

"What about all the people?" The big men had started moving through the crowd snatching up anything they could get their hands on. "We can't just leave them…" She started to pull back to the dining room, but Bruce shoved her into the hot kitchen and towards the open back door. "Bruce-"

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Eleanor, there's nothing you can do. Not unless you think getting yourself killed would do any good. You need to get out of here."

She opened her mouth to protest more, but shut it again, tightly, the jaw muscles beneath her ears bunching. "Fine, but you're coming with me."

They stepped into the back alley and started towards the street, Eleanor not-so-silently cursing her heels. They had only taken a few steps when there was a loud explosion from the direction of Gotham National Bank, and seconds later, a black cloud of smoke arose from the bank's roof to confirm suspicions. There was a chorus of screaming as the street was thrown into darkness. The explosion had evidently knocked out the street lights and probably electricity to a good chunk of the nearby buildings. Eleanor freed herself from Bruce's arms where she had retreated when the explosion went off, and started _towards _the bank.

"Eleanor, are you crazy? First you get a death threat which doesn't seem to faze you all that much and now you're heading _towards _the source of an explosion? What is the matter with you?"

People had started running through the alley, also looking for means of escape. Eleanor stepped out of the way and moved so she was standing in front of Bruce. "Sorry… Let's just get out of here." She let Bruce take her hand and lead her to safety again; leaving Bruce to think maybe the threat on her life had affected her more than he'd thought.

"Bruce! Eleanor!"

They both turned and watched as Rachel ran towards them. She was dressed similarly to Eleanor in a dress and heels, and seemed to having the same troubles navigating the uneven ground of the alley. The district attorney leaned against the brick wall, breathing heavily.

"Do you know what's going on? These big men just came into the restaurant where I was having dinner and starting demanding money and valuables from everyone, and then there was that explosion…" She looked at Bruce for an explanation, but when he just shrugged, she looked to Eleanor.

"The same thing happened where we were eating."

More people ran past them, and a particularly overeager man shoved the women to the ground as he passed. When they made it back to their feet and the ringing had cleared from their heads, they realized they were alone. Bruce was gone.

"Well, I guess we're on our own," Eleanor grumbled, brushing the snow from her dress.

Another explosion rocked the air, and more smoke rose, darkening the sky. Forgetting their dislike for one another, the women clasped hands and ran for the mouth of the alley. The bank, on the corner of the next block, had a mob of Gothamites standing around, gawking as police and criminals ran around, bullets and blood flying in every direction. Most of the fighting seemed to be contained within the building, and since the police weren't succeeding in getting people to leave, they had contented themselves with keeping them back a fair distance, and the back of that mob butted up against the alley, so, even if they hadn't wanted to observe, Rachel and Eleanor would have been pressed into the mob, blocking any chances of escape from the scene altogether.

"What the hell is going on?" Rachel demanded.

"I have no idea."

Another explosion, bigger than first two, detonated, and knocked most of the crowd off their feet. Instead of screaming though, there was scattered cheering. Batman had arrived.

* * *

Rachel watched in disbelief as Eleanor pushed herself to her feet and then barreled forward, elbows out, to the front of the mob, eager to watch the Batman in action. Was the woman stupid? Had the consecutive explosions knocked all the sense from her head? Sighing, Rachel followed the path of separated spectators. She didn't understand how Eleanor could not be terrified, could not be afraid that she was going to die at any moment. She didn't understand the woman at all, but there was something to knowing even one person, even someone you hated, and having them close in a situation such as the one their were currently in.

"Eleanor!" she called. "What are you doing? You're going to get killed."

The younger woman didn't respond, just kept her cobalt eyes glued to the front of the bank, into which Batman had disappeared only moments ago.

"Eleanor! Let's get out of here before we get hurt."

Two bodies came flying out one of the high windows in the bank, drawing all attention upwards. One was obviously Batman, and the other was obviously a woman. They tumbled through the air, heading straight for the crowd. People screamed and scattered, but as Rachel realized she was directly in the path of the human projectiles, she found her feet weren't listening to her brain. She couldn't pull her eyes away, and just before she was crushed, someone tackled her to the side and put themselves in her place.

Batman and the criminal had half-knocked over and half-landed on Eleanor. As the fight moved on, Rachel crawled over to Eleanor and shook her gently. "Eleanor, are you OK? Eleanor?"

"I'm fine," she breathed.

"Don't lie."

"I think some ribs might be broken."

Rachel choked her next words out. "Thank you."

Eleanor smiled. "I may hate you, but that's no reason for me not to save you if the opportunity presents itself." She agonizingly pushed herself into a sitting position. "To erase any potentially long-standing debt, could you take me to a hospital?" Her voice became more strained with every word and the colour continued to drain from her face.

"Of course."

* * *

Batman headed back to the cave an hour later in a foul mood; he was so angry he noticed nothing besides the street whizzing by in front of him as he drove. He had identified the woman as the leader almost immediately and had chased her through a series of alleys and streets towards the ocean, but at the last minute, just before they would have hit the water, the blonde had disappeared. She had rounded a corner and she was gone by the time Batman had arrived. In fact, there wasn't anyone in the street.

The only explanation that fit the circumstances and the M.O. of the robbery was the NanoShift. The woman he had chased was the one who had the technology. She had finally reached Gotham.

The Batmobile skidded to a half in its normal place and Bruce removed Batman's cape and cowl almost as soon as his feet touched the cave floor. He had to phone Gordon, and at some point, he would have to phone Eleanor, make sure she was OK from having him and the woman knock her over, and make up some excuse for why he disappeared right when they were supposed to be running for their lives. He'd have to tell the same excuse to Rachel.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred appeared at exactly the right moment, as he had become quite adept at doing, and surveyed his charge. "No injuries tonight?"

"No. I escaped with only minor bumps and bruises."

"Good news, sir. Ms. Black phoned. Would you like to hear her exact message or my summarized version?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Her message, please."

"I believe it was: 'I thought you might like to know that I'm at the hospital right now and I have three broken ribs. Of course, I could be wrong in assuming you want to know that. Oh, and when you want to tell me why you disappeared, I'll be glad to listen.'" Alfred cleared his throat once to let Bruce know he was finished. When Bruce didn't say anything, the butler continued. "If you'd like, I could come up with a story for you."

The look Alfred received made him quirk one corner of his mouth up in a smile. "I think I should deal with this on my own, Alfred."

"Wise choice, sir."

* * *

Ashlynn threw the lamp at Finch's head and screamed as it shattered just slightly to the left. "WHAT THE FUCK WENT WRONG?" she raged, picking up another lamp to thrown.

Sam grabbed her wrist from behind and seized the lamp from his sister. He was wise enough not to tell her to calm down, and he knew he probably shouldn't restrain her, but that's what he did, afraid she'd do something she'd regret later. "Ash," he said, ignoring her growls and struggles to get free. "You _knew _this was going to happen. You _knew _that as soon as we stepped foot in Gotham that the Batman would mess up your plans." For a moment, Sam actually thought Ashlynn was going to bite him, her teeth were bared so much, and he breathed a sigh of relief when she wrenched her arm free and stalked to the window.

"But we were so close to getting that money."

"Why do you want the money so bad?" Finch asked.

Ashlynn hurled a pillow at him before roaring, "IT'S NOT ABOUT THE GOD DAMNED MONEY!"

"ASHLYNN!" Sam yelled, significantly louder than the small woman. _What the hell is the matter with her? She's not usually this worked up. _"How about we stop throwing things," he suggested.

That earned a pillow hurled at him.

"WOULD YOU BOTH JUST SHUT UP?!" Ashlynn sighed louder than Sam felt was necessary and turned her fiery gaze to Finch. "It's about pulling off a successful operation even with the Batman looming over us. Why can't you see that? I'm going to have think up counter measures if the flying rat is going to get in the way no matter what."

Sam couldn't resist. "You'd better get started on those counter measures then."

Ashlynn grabbed the heaviest thing she could find, which just happened to be the lamp Sam had rescued moments before, and threw it at her brother. He caught it, set it back down on the table and walked out of the room, letting Finch take the full force of his sister's anger. In the dark hallway, he leaned against the wall and slid down until he was sitting with his legs out straight, his feet almost touching the other wall. Ever since Ashlynn had injected herself with that _stuff_, she'd been acting strange, and Sam knew he wasn't the only one to notice. The men were talking, and they were all afraid, some for their lives.

Another thing Sam knew, things in Gotham were about to get very sour.

* * *

**Author's Note… **So I lied. I changed the name of the chapter. What happened this time was I smushed the planned chapter seven and chapter eight together and took the title of planned chapter eight because I like it better. Also, chapter seven would have been **really **short if I had left it alone. Yay for editing-as-you-write!

And yes, I realize Ashlynn's "pickle" is rather run-of-the-mill-revenge-plot. So sue me.

Anyways, sorry it's taken me a while to get this up. I've been rather busy with school and reading a copious amount of **Batman **comics, and two fanfiction that I'm currently addicted to. They're the two most recent additions to my favourite stories, so go check 'em out. March and April are probably going to be pretty busy months, since it's the last month of school and then exams. Wee, fun. And Shauna's got her surgery and there's three or four birthday parties and a whole list of other things to do. All **before **my birthday. Which is a hell of a lot sooner than I thought. I mean, it's not until May, but the way time's been going, that'll be here in a blink.

OK, I'll shut up now.

Next Chapter: **Christmas Approach-eth**. And the beginning of the end of something-or-other-having-to-do-with-freedom for Eleanor. That vague enough for ya? I'm **seriously **tired. Lost like, 3 hours of sleep last night because the damn fire alarm went off at 5 in the morning and we didn't get back inside the building until 7. We had to stand outside for all that time in the cold in our pajamas. And then I had to climb 24 flights of stairs and then I had to get back to sleep.

OK, I'll **seriously **shut up now. Enjoy.


	8. Christmas Approacheth

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Eight / _Christmas Approach-eth _

* * *

It was the early hours of the morning when Eleanor finally got home. Her side hurt like you wouldn't believe. The painkillers she'd been given weren't doing much to dull her pain, but she was walking around with her head swimming. She ignored Blaze and his whining as she stumbled inside and collapsed on the couch with a loud grunt. Her mother had come over at some point that night to get the mail for Eleanor and had even made dinner that was currently sitting on the island in the kitchen, steam occasionally rising in near-invisible wisps. Obviously, it hadn't been long since Naomi had left. Saying a silent thank-you to her mother, Eleanor ground her teeth against the pain and pushed herself into a half-sitting position so she could flip through the stack of envelopes inviting her from the coffee table.

The only piece of interesting mail amongst the bills and the junk was the invitation to Bruce's annual Christmas party. Eleanor grunted again, tossing the bills and fliers on the floor and pulled the fancy red, green and silver card out of the envelope. A small sprig of mistletoe fell into her lap. At that moment – painkillers and exhaustion not withstanding – she hated Bruce and his mistletoe and his parties, and she ripped the stupid fancy piece of paper in half. Why would he want to have a party now anyways? She and Rachel had just had their _lives _threatened and there was a new criminal on the loose in Gotham. Not like there was ever a shortage of crazy people terrorizing the streets, but why the hell would someone have a party in the middle of it all? The action seemed completely selfish, but, somewhere in her mind, she knew Bruce's party had been planned for a long time and, in actual fact, the festivities would bring everyone, even her, a few hours of happiness in the dark times.

Eleanor discarded the two halves of the invitation on the floor and headed into the kitchen, mumbling to herself. Knowing she was being a tad bit ridiculous, Eleanor allowed herself to take the insult of the upcoming party personally. It wasn't something she normally would have done, but she was grumpy and in pain, and she wasn't feeling like her normal self in the slightest. In the kitchen, Eleanor stuck the plate of chicken, rice and vegetables into the fridge – she felt like she would throw up anything she ate – before heading past the partition and falling on her large bed, angry and in pain, but she was asleep in a matter of minutes, her face buried in her overly massive pillow. Blaze wined softly at the unusual lack of attention.

The shrill ring of her phone woke her five or so hours later. She rolled over and seized the phone off the bedside table. "What?" she snapped, untangling her legs from the blankets and spitting hair form her mouth.

_"I'm sorry to wake you, Eleanor, especially after what happened to you yesterday, but, if you can, I'd like you to come into the office. There was another robbery last night, around one in the morning." _

Eleanor sighed, closed her eyes. "I'm sorry Mr. Fox. I'll be in shortly."

_"Thank you Eleanor." _His voice was apologetic but appreciative.

She hung up the phone and sat up in her bed, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. Her reddish hair, which she had neglected to take out of the ponytail she had put it in at the hospital, was piled on top of her head in a mass of knots and it resembled quite closely a bird's nest, and there were dark circles under her eyes. One side of her lip was rather scabbed from chewing on it to get through the pain that was still plaguing her side, and the makeup she'd be wearing was smeared over her face. All in all, it was one of her worse morning faces, and had anyone seen it, they would have laughed. With another sigh, Eleanor got to her feet and labouriously went through the motions of showering, getting dressed and applying only enough makeup to make her look halfway-normal. She popped three of the painkillers into her mouth, swallowed them with a gulp of hot tea and then called a cab to take her to Wayne Tower. Thirty minutes later, she was sitting uncomfortably in front of Lucius Fox's desk, Commissioner Gordon on one side, Rachel on the other, and Adam and Shauna standing against the wall. Bruce was absent, and she was OK with that. After he had left her and Rachel to fend for themselves the night before, he was the last person she wanted to see. Obviously, everyone had been informed to the threats Eleanor and Rachel had received, as Gordon and the two engineers mumbled something about wishing they could help. There was a terrible tension in the room, and Eleanor kept her eyes firmly ahead, ignoring everyone but Gordon and Lucius. Sociable this morning, she was not.

"Can we get on with this, please? I'd like to get home and go back to bed where I'm supposed to be." Eleanor slouched down in her chair and then sat right back up as her ribs flared. She settled for leaning her head back.

"There was another robbery last night. After the bank," Gordon said, shifting uneasily in his chair. "Exactly the same thing happened – Batman arrived and stopped the robbery. He chased the perpetrator but she just disappeared. There were a couple reports of a woman changing appearances in plain sight of everyone afterwards."

"Well that wasn't very smart."

Everyone turned towards Shauna.

"Well, it wasn't! She's got to know that _we _know she has the technology! How could she not know? And even if we didn't, she just as good as told us that _whoever _has the technology is in Gotham. She just exposed herself." Shauna huffed and crossed her arms tightly, bunching her mouth in frustration as she realized everyone had already come to that conclusion. "It still wasn't smart."

"Regardless, it doesn't tell us anything." Lucius sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"What _do _we know?" Rachel asked.

Adam took the opportunity to speak. "The NanoShift technology was stolen en route from Japan and someone has been using it to rob banks on their way to Gotham. Whoever _has _the technology has a large group of people working for them, because they were able to take out anyone sent to stop them, and they've been able to move across the country quickly. Gotham seems to have been their target, although what exactly they're trying to do, we're not sure what _exactly _they're after."

"Yeah, it can't be about the money…" Rachel slumped in her chair and looked at Eleanor. "You have any ideas what they might be after? Mr. Fox told me you were in charge of keeping the information."

"Well, if it's not money…" She looked to Gordon for confirmation because she knew he would see her thoughts. "It's gotta be revenge. Or, most likely it's revenge. Those _are _the two most common motives. I think that would be a good place to start. Plus…" Now Eleanor looked at Rachel for the first time. "The threats Rachel and I received suggest she has a specific target and we're somehow involved."

"I don't see how that's possible," Rachel said rather snippily. "We don't have anything in common."

Eleanor, too doped up on painkillers to think properly and state the obvious, nodded her agreement. "It doesn't make sense. We _don't _have anything in common."

No on else seemed to pick up on the obvious, either.

"The only thing we can do is track this woman's actions, and try and find out who she. We can only hope for some sort of slip up," Gordon said, shifting again. "I'll hand pick a team and get them on that right away. Now that she's in Gotham… I have a feeling things are going to escalate quickly. They always do." The last part was added more as an afterthought, and Eleanor, for the first time since she'd met the Commissioner, could hear the weariness the man dealt with on a day to day basis. "Eleanor, Rachel, I don't think you two should be alone at any time. Or, at least not for long periods of time."

"That's easier said than done."

All eyes turned to Rachel.

"My parents don't live in Gotham, and I'm not leaving my job, my apartment or anything."

"It's easy enough for me. I'll just go stay at my parent's house," Eleanor breathed through a fresh wave of pain.

"Rachel, find a friend or coworker or someone to stay with," Gordon urged. He rose from his chair and adjusted his tan trench coat before he headed for the door of Lucius' office. "I'll head to the station and get a team together. Let me know if anything new comes up, or," he turned to Adam and Shauna, "if there's anything else I need to know about this technology."

"Will do." Adam fashioned an awkward salute.

The others who were assembled in the room watched the commissioner leave, and then turned their attentions back to the centre of the room. With a few last words and promises from Eleanor and Rachel that they would not be alone, the group dissipated back to their supposed-to-be places. Adam and Shauna descended into their lab, Lucius glued his eyes to the reports on his computer screen, Rachel headed to the district attorney's office several long blocks away and Eleanor caught a cab home and promptly fell on the couch. After a few minutes of pointless lying around, staring at the ceiling and thinking about nothing in particular, she pulled her phone of its hook on the end table behind her head and dialed the number for her parents' house.

_"Hello?" _

"Nathan? Hi, it's Eleanor."

She pictured the cook smiling brightly as he pictured a younger Eleanor who had frequently been caught with her hands in the freshly baked cookies and muffins. _"Eleanor! It's been a long time. What can I do for you today?" _

"Are either of my parents in, Nathan?"

_"Not at the moment. Do you want me to give them a message? You know they've been worried sick since they heard about what happened at the bank." _

"I know, Nathan. I'm fine. And no, there's no message to leave for them. I'm coming to live at the house for a while, that's all. It might be nice to surprise them, actually."

_"Do you want me to get Charlotte to get your room ready then, Eleanor?" _

"That'd be great, Nathan. I'll be there shortly."

_"All right. I'll keep my mouth shut about your arrival then, Eleanor. I'll see you later." _

"Bye Nathan."

A small smile at some random memory of childhood crept onto Eleanor's face as she hung up the phone. But that smile faded quickly as the full reason she was going to stay at her parents' dawned on her. Again. She had been threatened, and Commissioner Gordon didn't want her left alone. _God, how many times am I going to have go through this? _Eleanor pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes until it hurt and then sighed. She really was glad to be staying at her parents' house. It had been far too long since she'd spent a decent amount of time with Liam and Naomi Black, and far too long since she'd dwelt at all in her childhood. _This not-allowed-to-be-alone thing will be good for me, _Eleanor mused.

She mused for a few more moments, and then pushed herself off the couch and moved about gathering the things she would need. Eleanor filled a suitcase with pajamas, her favourite clothes, her necessary clothes, all her makeup and toiletries, and several books. In a small duffel bag, she put Blaze's food, toys, leash and blanket. In one last bag, she put her laptop, all its plugs, and both her external hard drives, the one with her photographs and the one with the information about the NanoShift technology and the case. Once again, she popped a few painkillers into her mouth, called another cab and got help from her neighbour Matthew to carry her bags downstairs and into the trunk of the cab. Blaze hopped into the backseat beside her. The ride to her parents' house out on the Sheal was a good forty minutes with traffic. She paid the fare, and Nathan, who had been watching from the kitchen window, helped her get her bags up to her room on the second floor. Blaze immediately ran into the backyard where Naomi and Liam's two big dogs could be heard barking.

"It'll be so good to have to you in the house again," Nathan said cheerfully, hugging Eleanor to his broad chest.

"It'll be good to be home." Eleanor returned the embrace, wincing as her ribs protested slightly.

"Your mom and dad should be home around dinner time, Eleanor. I'd better get back at it. I'm making roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. You're favourites for your welcome home dinner!"

Eleanor beamed as Nathan headed back downstairs, and stared unpacking her things. Memories started flooding back into her head as she ran her hands over the furniture; as she looked out the window on the familiar view of the expansive gardens; as she listened to the subtle creaking of the old floor boards.

She felt safe.

The fear she had felt at being threatened welled against the feelings of safety and Eleanor sat down on the bed and cried for the first time she'd received the letter.

* * *

Eleanor had been wrong. The obvious connection between Eleanor and Rachel had donned on someone, and that someone took immediate action.

_"Bruce, I believe the threats Eleanor and Rachel received were because of their connections to you." _

Instantly, Bruce knew what the commissioner was getting at. The woman with the NanoShift technology, who had sent the letters to Eleanor and Rachel, wanted _him_ and she probably wanted him _dead_. "You mean to say someone is after me?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound like that notion was inconceivable.

_"That's exactly what I think. I also think you should get some extra security for your Christmas party, because that would be an excellent time for someone to get to you." _

"Have you done anything for Eleanor and Rachel?"

_"I've told them not to be alone. Eleanor is at her parent's house, and I'm not sure where Rachel is. She wasn't happy when I asked her to find somewhere to go. I don't think she has any family in Gotham." _Bruce heard Gordon cough to clear his throat and then he continued. _"Just get some more security for your party, since I know you won't cancel it, OK?" _

"I will, Jim."

Bruce ended the call, closed his eyes and sighed. Somewhere in the far back of his mind, he had known this was beyond just Eleanor and Rachel. Whoever this woman was, she wanted revenge. Bruce's first thought was she wanted revenge against Batman and she'd figured out Bruce Wayne was behind the cowl. But, she had obviously come from Asia, and that didn't make sense with her wanting revenge against Batman. Bruce ran over the events the last time he'd been in Asia, but nothing stood out in his memory. It had been an uneventful business trip, of which he had spent most of the three days in a hotel boardroom. There had to be a clue somewhere in his memory… No matter how hard he thought though, nothing came to mind.

Except worry.

He'd never wanted either Eleanor or Rachel to get involved like this. But now, they had been dragged in and had their lives threatened.

Bruce picked up the phone again, intending to phone Eleanor at her parents' to apologize and to make sure she was all right, but, after staring at the device for a moment, the dial tone humming around the room, he hung it back up and headed down into the chill air of the Batcave. The monitor he used to find his batarangs was sitting on one of the long metal tables, and the lime green blip belonging to Eleanor's batarang was moving in a tight circle. Bruce smiled a small smile to himself. She had the weapon with her, and was walking around in a circle. Bruce's smile grew a fraction as he pictured her, frazzled and trying to figure out what to do with herself. The threat she'd received was his fault, he knew that now, and it was a painful truth to accept. Again, he picked up a phone and thought about calling Eleanor, but she would still be mad at him, and he still didn't know what he was going to tell her when she asked where he'd disappeared to the night before. Maybe he should get Alfred to come up with something… He was good at that.

"No," he said aloud. _I need to deal with this myself. Eleanor deserves that much. _

_**She deserves the truth, **_said another voice in his mind. And she did, but that, he couldn't give her.

* * *

Sam knew Ashlynn's moods were always fowl, but lately, they had been getting ridiculous. He also noticed she was always wearing a long-sleeved, turtleneck sweater, long pants, gloves and a hat pulled low over her eyes, almost like she was trying to hide. Currently, she was glowering on the grimy couch in the apartment, staring at the wall above the broken television, keeping her mouth firmly shut as her jaw worked back and forth. Sam knew this meant she was deep in thought and would not like to be disturbed, but there were things they _needed _to talk about, like what the hell the plan was for crashing Bruce's party. Ashlynn had managed to keep everyone in the dark about the details.

"Ashlynn," Sam said cautiously, sitting beside his sister. "What exactly are you planning on doing at Bruce's Christmas party?"

For a long time, the small woman said nothing, her grey eyes moving back and forth slightly as her focus shifted from one point on the wall to another. Finally, she sighed heavily and leaned back, sinking into the couch cushion and shifting her gaze to the ceiling. "I'm going to get her out of the way. Put her in prison. Destroy her to get at Bruce."

"I know that, Ash. You've said that, but what are you going to do to accomplish that?"

"I'm going to change myself to look like her. That's all you need to know, since you won't be there. I'm doing this alone, Sam." She crossed her arms under her chest and closed her eyes.

He sighed. Whenever Ashlynn said "that's all you need to know", it meant something bad for someone, and in this case, it was this Eleanor woman. Sam had never actually seen her, but Ashlynn was convinced she was the closest woman to Bruce Wayne, and thus, the quickest way for Ashlynn to start their revenge. Sam was a little worried about what was in store, but it wasn't his place to say anything, nor did he want to deal with Ashlynn's rage.

He got to his feet and headed towards the door.

"Well, if you don't want my help, I'll head down to check on the men."

Ashlynn didn't say anything as her brother left. When she was alone, and sure her brother wasn't going to come back, she got to her feet and walked in a slow circle around the small living room before heading into the bathroom and staring at her face in the mirror. Taped to the wall were two photos: one of Eleanor and one of Rachel. It was the one of Eleanor Ashlynn was focused on, eyes narrowed in a dangerous glare. Her skin slowly began to bubble as the transformation took over. Ashlynn doubled over, propping herself up with her hands on the sides of the sink, her fingers turning white as she grabbed the porcelain bowl tightly, and a harsh gurgling sound escaping from her lips as she gasped. The transformations had become increasingly more painful since the first time she'd changed, but they had to be done and Ashlynn felt she had to change into her target at lest three times before she had it right.

Once her skin had ceased its fits of bubbling and the pain had started to subside, Ashlynn lifted her gaze and found herself staring into the cobalt eyes of Eleanor Black. A very nasty smirk slipped across the face in the mirror, turning Eleanor's face into something completely different than what it normally was. Ashlynn was finally satisfied. Unlike the rest of her transformations, this one needed to be _perfect_, and she had not been happy with it until now; she had preformed the Eleanor transformation four times before this one and she had always found something to complain about. But now…

Retaining the evil smile, Ashlynn grabbed the small tape recorder from the ledge on the sink and pressed the play button. Eleanor's voice filled the room, uttering the sentences she had at the Halloween party, where Ashlynn had been spying on her and gathering any information that might come in useful. Or, in this case, absolutely necessary. Ashlynn opened her mouth and spoke in Eleanor's voice, lower than her own, and smiled darkly at the perfection of the impression.

Things were going well indeed.

Ashlynn-Eleanor walked out of the bathroom and to the table sitting beneath the grimy windows, and unrolled the black tool kit. She slid one of the long, six-inch knives out of its pocket and twirling it in her fingers. The motion was second-nature to Ashlynn, but in the window, the reflection of Eleanor looked bizarre with the knife dancing over her fingers. The face was still split with a nasty grin.

"I wonder if Eleanor is capable of murder…" she breathed. Ashlynn-Eleanor stabbed the knife deep into the wood of the table and bared her teeth in a savage grin.

* * *

Eleanor headed upstairs after a deeply satisfying dinner, feeling a little less than such. Her parents' enthusiasm at seeing her when they walked in the door had alleviated her earlier displays of emotion temporarily, but now she was alone again, and all those fears had appeared again, stronger than before. Tears were filling her eyes as she ascended the stairs, and her hands were shaking. Naomi and Liam had tried to consol her, but they were angry with her for not telling them as soon as she was threatened, and they were furious that she _had _been threatened, so their emotions were getting the best of them and leaving no room for their words to help Eleanor. She had felt strangely foolish when nothing her parents had said worked, and had spent the last several hours sitting in the living room staring blankly as the pictures moved across the television screen.

She opened the door and stepped into her blue room and closed her eyes as a breeze washed over her.

A breeze?

_I didn't leave the window open… _Eleanor opened her eyes again, panic rising in her chest. What if whoever had sent her the letter had broken into her room? What if they were waiting for her? She quietly shut the door and made her way past the closet and peered around the corner, looking towards the large window that was the source of the breeze. When she saw who had invaded her room, she set her jaw and stepped around the corner, putting her hands on her hips. "_What _are you doing here?" she snapped.

His presence was a surprise, but it wasn't totally unwelcome. Bruce Wayne was sitting in the seat below her window, holding one of her favourite high-heeled black sandals in his hands. "You've got quite the shoe collection," he said a second later.

The absurd sentence threw her through a loop. "What were you doing in my closet?"

Bruce set the shoe down and got to his feet. He wasn't dressed in a suit, just jeans and a t-shirt, which obviously means this was a completely personal visit, and as he walked towards he, Eleanor realized she didn't mind at all. Her fear for her life had vanished and the threat seemed never to have happened. Her anger at Bruce for abandoning her and Rachel at the bank robber had dissolved under his gaze and she was wishing he'd walk a little fast to close the distance between them. She shook her head slightly, trying to bring back the fear and anger she knew she should be feeling, but she couldn't. Bruce's presence in her room made her feel safe.

"Ellie," he breathed. "I'm sorry." As she opened her mouth to respond with a feeble protest, he continued. "I don't know what came over me when I left you there. When Alfred gave me your message, I felt horrible. Sorry might not be enough for leaving you to get your ribs broken."

Eleanor smiled against her will. "It's not, but… thanks for coming here to apologize anyway." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged herself close to the warmth of his chest.

"How are you?" he asked, returning the embrace, and rubbing his back slightly.

"In pain."

"That wasn't all I was referring to."

"I know." Eleanor sighed, walked over and sunk onto the window seat. "I don't know what to think, Bruce. I'm scared." As he sat down beside her, she leaned her head on his shoulder. "But I don't know how to deal with this. I've never had a serious situation to deal with pertaining to my own life. The only thing I ever have to deal with is the business problems." Tears started to well in her eyes again. "The open window freaked me out. I thought someone had broken into my room to kill me."

"That's a reasonable fear, Eleanor."

The musical ring of her cell phone suddenly sounded, cutting off any further conversation. She got to her feet, walked over to her desk and put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

_"Eleanor, it's Adam."_

The engineer sounded panicked, worried and excited all at the same time. "What is it? What's wrong?" She looked at Bruce as she waited for an answer, a worried expression on her face. Bruce returned a confused look.

_"I've uncovered something about the NanoShift technology – the main problem they wanted us to look at." _

"What is it?"

_"It causes the user to become deformed. The more she transforms, the more deformed she's going to get. That means, if she keeps transforming, soon she'll be easily recognizable. I'm pretty sure she won't even be able to transform eventually." _

"Did you tell Mr. Fox?"

_"Of course I did! He told me to phone you. I've e-mailed you the files with the information highlighted, and the hard copies will be on your desk whenever you come in to get them. And I told Gordon too, so I'm sure he'll notify Batman. Everyone's been alerted to this new information. I also found photos of test subjects after they'd started to deform. I sent you those as well. Whoever has the technology is most likely going to follow the same patterns they did." _

"This is great information, Adam. Thanks for letting me know."

_"So… how are you doing, Eleanor?" _

"I'm doing OK, Adam. But, I don't really have time to talk right now though. I'll see you tomorrow." Her and Adam said their goodbyes, Adam's sounding slightly suspicious of why she wanted to go so soon, and then Eleanor hung up her phone and walked back over to the window seat. "Adam found out some new information about the technology. I'm sure Mr. Fox will inform you."

"I'm sure he will." Bruce wrapped one arm around Eleanor's shoulders.

But they were interrupted again by the ringing of another phone. Eleanor caught the anger flash over Bruce's face. He stood up, put the phone to his ear, listened intently, and answered everything with a simple "yes", before hanging up and turning a regretful gaze to Eleanor.

"Let me guess," she said, "Something's come up?"

He nodded, bent down and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry Eleanor."

"It's OK…" As Bruce stood back up, Eleanor followed suit and grabbed his wrist. In an uncharacteristically bold movement, she stepped in front of him, rose to her tiptoes and kissed him deeply. He returned the kiss, but only for a brief second, and then pulled away and left the room, looking back over his shoulder once to smile at Eleanor.

* * *

**Author's Note… **So the chapter is crap. Don't tell me that, I already know it. I had to force my way through it though, because somewhere in the midst of school, exams and a job search, I lost my muse and only recently got it back, but I couldn't remember what I was going to write, and my cryptic planning notes weren't helping. And what I did remember seemed stupid, so I didn't write it, but this is probably just as stupid. But it's done and I can move on.

On the bright side, I got a job. And I passed everything in school.

**Next Chapter: The Eleanor Phase.**


	9. The Eleanor Phase

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Nine / _The Eleanor Phase _

* * *

So far, the party was going a lot better, and Eleanor was having a lot more fun than she had thought she would. Over the last week, Bruce and Eleanor had had dinner together three times, all of them at Wayne Manor, and once they had spent all evening watching movies on the large home-theatre system, which Eleanor thought was fantastic. She and Bruce were much closer than they had been before she'd kissed him, and she was enjoying the looks on the faces of the young socialites at the Christmas party as she clung to Bruce's arm and whispered in his ear.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Bruce asked, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"Of course," she replied brightly. "Your such-and-such is _so _whatever." Eleanor laughed throatily, making it seem they were having some sort of deep, personal conversation, and leaned a little closer to him. She laughed again at the scandalized looks on the nearest group of girls looking to join the list of Bruce Wayne's dates.

"You are _such_ a little minx."

"Oh, you like it."

Bruce laughed, and Eleanor could tell that it was a genuine laugh, the kind not normally exposed at parties, in public. Eleanor smiled at this and hugged him quickly before she excused herself and made her way to the long table where pounds and pounds of food had been set out in elegant and complicated displays and promptly began to fill up a plate. She smiled again, to herself, as she watched Bruce move amongst his fan club and selected one of them – a tall skinny blonde with legs that went on for days, obviously a model – to dance. Rolling her eyes, Eleanor shoved some small black, truffle-flavoured tart thing into her mouth whole and chased it with a hefty gulp of red wine. She knew very well she could have been one of those fan club members, that she could have been one of the girls who had nothing better to do than doll herself up and go to every party, hoping in vain that Bruce Wayne would be there and that she would get to dance with him; she knew she _would_ have been, if she had not been adopted by the Blacks, if she had not ended up in a family close to the Waynes, if she had not got the job at Wayne Enterprises and if she had not become Bruce's friend. As it was, she _was _his friend and she was hoping, desperately, for something more, but she wasn't letting herself become too hopeful. There was something keeping Bruce distracted, keeping his distant; from getting too close to anyone. Even to Rachel, who had been his best friend for a long time and who it had always been assumed he'd end up with.

Just as Eleanor's mind drifted to thoughts of Rachel, the chestnut-haired one approached along the table, her hair pulled back tightly, once again giving her the bird-like appearance, although the soft ringlets hovering around her neck did manage to take the edge off. "Enjoying yourself, Eleanor?" Her voice wasn't as harsh as it would have been once, but it was obvious she still disliked Eleanor greatly.

And Eleanor returned the feelings. "You know I am," she said after swallowing her truffle-flavoured tart thing. "What about you?"

"Not quite as much as you."

Eleanor smiled a smile full of faux-regret.

"You'd better watch yourself – here comes one of Bruce's fan club. She looks pissed." Rachel smoothly turned away, but didn't move far enough so as to put herself out of earshot.

"Can I help you?" Eleanor asked, taking another sip of her wine.

The girl was a little shorter than Eleanor with wavy reddish hair and bright brown eyes. Her nose and cheeks were covered with an attractive spattering of freckles she had inexpertly tried to cover with makeup. She was wearing the same dress as Eleanor, except it clashed horridly with her hair where it brought a lushness to Eleanor's. She didn't look any older than sixteen, and the way she had scrunched up her face in anger was only serving to make her look younger. The only way she could have been invited to the party was if she was part of a rich, famous or well-connected Gotham family. There was no way she could have gotten in on her own. She shoved her face into Eleanor's and huffed angrily.

"What is your problem?"

By the smell of things, she had been sneaking alcohol, and she was quite drunk. Eleanor rolled her eyes. "I don't have a problem, actually, but I doubt you are really concerned with me. I'm going to assume _you _have a problem with something I'm doing, so you're going to have to be a little more specific to get the answer you're after."

The girl blinked rapidly for a minute as she tried to get through the alcohol hazed and puzzle out what Eleanor had said. She shook her head. "You're hogging Bruce!"

Eleanor actually, literally snorted into her wine. "_Hogging _Bruce?"

She huffed again, her perfectly placed red waves bouncing and becoming slightly disheveled. "You're not letting any of us other girls get near him! Is it so much to want to have one dance with him?"

"Apparently it's a pretty big deal."

A rapid and hard slap hit Eleanor across the cheek, tossing her head to one side and making her eyes water. The burning and stinging crept across her face quickly, and Eleanor had to blink to keep tears from running down her cheeks. The redhead was blabbering again, her face turning almost the same shade as her hair, but Eleanor didn't care what she was saying. Anger was rising with the stinging now, and Eleanor had also had several glasses of wine, which tended to impair her emotions and her judgment. So she lashed out and smacked the younger girl back, significantly harder than she had been smacked.

What happened next… it happened fast.

A big man spotted the exchange and stalked over, his face screwed up into an expression of rage and his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. Eleanor could only assume this was her brother.

How could things have gone so bad when they had been so good?

"Why'd you hit my sister?" he growled, towering over Eleanor.

The only defense she could come up with was 'she hit me first', but that was lame and Eleanor didn't think it would do any good, so she just stared at the guy, rubbing her cheek. He took a step closer to her and flexed his fists threateningly. Eleanor knew she was about to get hit again.

"I said, why'd you hit my sister?"

"I heard you the first time."

He hit her then. Well, it was more of a punch, and it broke her nose, but because of where they were standing – at the end of the table, rather in the corner of the large room – no on else seemed to notice. Eleanor managed to throw a napkin over her nose and pinch it painfully underneath it to stop the now-flowing blood; she also managed to keep the blood off of her dress, although the deep purple colour would have hid most of it anyway. Deciding not to get any farther involved than she already was, Eleanor turned and headed upstairs to the bathroom, unaware of Rachel following her, and of what was transpiring behind her.

* * *

The seemingly young red-headed girl smirked and rubbed her own cheek as Eleanor vanished upstairs. "That girl can hit," she said, still looking forward. She walked off to the bathroom on the same floor as the ballroom, and closed the door behind her, her brother taking up his post outside the door. Facing the mirror over the sink, she closed her eyes and concentrated on Eleanor's face, picturing every detail as she had done several times before. She grimaced as her skin began to bubble and shift and her fingers clutched the edges of the sink much as they had done back in the small apartment a week or so ago.

Thankful for her brother's discretion and his smarts not to ask if she was OK, Ashlynn let a small scream escape her lips. The transformation had become much, much more painful than it had been when she'd first injected the NanoShift technology into her body. It was almost enough to make her want to quit.

But she pressed through the pain. She had to.

Several long, excruciating minutes later, Ashlynn looked up into the cobalt eyes of Eleanor.

* * *

Eloise Griffin was fifty-seven, and extremely happy with her life. She was in the best shape of her life, been married to her perfect man for thirty-five years, had four wonderful children and three beautiful grandchildren with another one on the way. Her and her husband weren't fabulously wealthy or anything, but they had a great deal of money as her husband owned a good sized piece of land where luxury apartments had been built. It was almost tradition now, that her, her husband and her children and their spouses all came to Bruce Wayne's Christmas party, and this year was no exception. Usually, Eloise had a great time.

This year however, things had turned sour.

Eloise had been enjoying another glass of wine with a group of friends when someone had grabbed her wrist and roughly yanked her backwards, the glass of wine slopping all down her front and a small scream or surprise escaping her lips. Something cold touched her neck, and a second later, a sharp, hot pain spread across her neck in a thin line, like a razor touching the skin…

She looked down, and there, in the hand of whoever was holding her, was a knife, poised to slit her throat at any moment.

Tears began to fall down her cheeks, her lip began to tremble and she whimpered.

"Stop your simpering," her attacker hissed, dragging her across the room, the knife's edge digging painfully into Eloise's skin.

People were starting to watch. The music had stopped, and a quiet whisper of voices was rippling through the crowd, fear heavily identifiable. Eloise bit her lip, trying not to make anymore noise so she wouldn't die, but there was a hard knot in her stomach saying that she was going to die anyways. Her attacker had brought her into the middle of the massive ballroom, and _everyone _was watching now, an eerie silence settling. Eloise was starting to feel dizzy, and her knees buckled slightly, but whoever was holding her, the woman who was holding her, was strong enough to keep her upright. Across the room, Eloise noticed Bruce Wayne re-entering the ballroom, a look of shock, pain and disbelief on his face. He would stop this…

* * *

Bruce couldn't believe what he was seeing – he _wouldn't _believe it. Eleanor was standing in the middle of the room, holding an older woman – he was sure it was Eloise Griffin – and pressing a knife against her throat. Eleanor's face, which had previously been light with laughter and happiness, was contorted in a smile of grim satisfaction, and her cobalt eyes, glowing with a devious light he'd never seen on her face before. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. There was _no _way Eleanor would attack someone, no way she'd hold a knife to someone's throat and stand there, grinning evilly at him. For she was looking at_ him_.

"Now that everyone's here," she hissed.

Something was holding Bruce's feet in place. He wanted to move, run forward and stop her, but he couldn't move. Never before had he not been able to stop something when he needed to, when he wanted to. When he was running around the city as Batman…

A thought struck him suddenly. It _wasn't _Eleanor standing across from him. It was whoever had the NanoShift technology. It had to be. Now he understood what the threat Eleanor had received was about. But this didn't explain Rachel's threat… There was time to puzzle that out later. With that realization, Bruce could move again, and he was across the room in a matter of seconds, but it wasn't fast enough. The Eleanor that wasn't Eleanor dragged the knife across Mrs. Griffin's throat in one swift, professional motion, and as the woman crumpled in front of her, Not-Eleanor bounded out of the room and up the stairs. Bruce ran after her, his fingers momentarily closing around her wrist, but she twisted and continued up the stairs and then down the hallway, towards an open window; behind him, people were rushing to Mrs. Griffin's side, and he knew she'd be taken care of, and he could already hear someone yelling for 911. As Not-Eleanor leapt out the window, Bruce stopped in his tracks, his thoughts on what he was going to do next, and just stared at the window.

Beside him, a door opened and the real Eleanor stepped out, holding a cloth to her nose, which was turning a little purple across the bridge. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the empty bedroom across the hall.

"You need to leave."

"What? Why?" The words came out a little muffled because of the injury and the cloth.

"The woman with the NanoShift was here. She attacked a woman. She was disguised as you."

"Me? Did it have anything to do with the threat?"

Bruce didn't answer her question. "You need to go, and you need to follow my lead."

Without giving time for Eleanor to respond, he gripped her wrist hard and dragged her rather roughly through the hall and back down the stairs. Ignoring her noises of protest, he led her through the ballroom, passed all the astonished guests. Someone ran up them, grabbed Bruce's arm to tell him the police had been phoned. Grimacing, he nodded his thanks and shoved Eleanor out the front door, onto the porch where a light snow was falling onto the already white ground. Eleanor immediately began shivering and Bruce would have given anything to get that look off her face, but he knew that he had to pretend he was furious with her, that he wanted her in the custody of the police and put in jail for attacking a woman. You couldn't just let a woman everyone thought had nearly murdered someone off free, no matter how much you wanted to.

They stood there, on the step, staring at each other until the sirens could be heard wailing on their way up the long drive. As the first lights flickered across his vision, Eleanor spoke.

"What the hell are you doing!? You know I didn't attack that woman!"

"Well, I can't very well tell them why, now can I?" Bruce sighed, pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Eleanor, I can't act like nothing happened! Everyone thinks it was you who attacked that woman!"

Still holding the cloth to her nose, Eleanor scowled. The gesture would have been comical at any other time, but right then… it was unsettling and kind of terrifying. "I could do without you throwing me around," she snapped bitterly, glaring over the cloth.

Bruce opened his mouth to apologize, but the cop cars and the ambulance had reached the house now, and a familiar trench coat was walking towards them. Eleanor visibly sighed with relief, her eyes closing slightly and her shoulders sinking, as Commissioner Gordon approached them, alone. There was a small, sardonic smirk on his face. He knew what had happened, and there was no doubt he had pieced it together right away.

"I guess the extra security was well worth it, wasn't it?" he observed sarcastically.

Eleanor scoffed. "Oh yeah. _Well _worth it."

"What's going to happen to Eleanor?" Bruce asked suddenly.

Gordon looked from Eleanor to Bruce and back to Eleanor. "Well… I'll have to take you to the station," he said slowly, "so it looks like we're going to put you in jail, but it shouldn't be too difficult to get you cleared of the charges and get them pinned on whoever the other woman is. You'll probably have to put under house arrest though." Gordon sighed tiredly, and rubbed his forehead vigorously. "We'll get your nose looked at before we head to the station though. Come on, Eleanor." Gordon placed a hand gently on her arm and turned her towards the waiting police car.

Bruce watched her get into the car, and watched as the car headed back to Gotham. After another minute, he headed back into the house, through the party guests and the pool of blood on the marble floor, only one thought on his mind. Ignoring all the questions, he ascended the stairs, went into the study and down the secret elevator into the cave. Across the cave at the large computer desk, he picked up the small black phone and dialed the number for the phone's twin in Gordon's pocket.

_"What is it?" _

Gordon's voice was slightly distorted by the sound of rushing wind no doubt coming from a slightly opened window in the car. "She escaped the manor and headed south, towards the Narrows."

_"There's not much hope of catching her now." _

"I am going to try."

_"Well good luck." _

Batman hung up the phone and quickly changed into his outfit, roaring out from behind the waterfall and south along the hidden road less than fifteen minutes later.

* * *

Ashlynn laughed jubilantly. She had changed back to herself as soon as she had reached a thick enough stand of trees and then she head taken a hidden car back to her apartment – stopping, of course, to pick Sam up on the way – where she proceeded to enthusiastically leap around the room and actually jump on the couch. The laugh coming from her mouth was almost animalistic in nature, and there was a wild look in her eyes.

"I take it you're happy with the results, then?"

"Of course I am!" Ashlynn stepped off the couch and placed her hands on her hips. "It worked! Part One of the Eleanor phase is complete and successful. She'll be locked away either in prison or her house, where she can wait for me to take her out of the picture for good. "

"What are you going to do about that other chick?"

"I'm going to-"

But Ashlynn didn't get to finish. She froze, hands raised slightly, fingers clenching. Her mouth twisted into an expression of pain and she started to shake, a thin wail escaping her lips as she collapsed onto the floor. It looked like she was having a seizure, and Sam didn't know what to do. He fell to his knees beside her, and turned her on her side like he had heard was the right thing to do, one hand gently stroking her cheek as he begged her to clam down, to stop, to breathe. Ashlynn stopped shaking a moment later, and her body relaxed everywhere except her left hand. Her left hand remained locked in a rigid state.

"Ash?" Sam whispered.

"My hand. I can't move it. I can't move my hand." Her eyes widened, tears of panic blossoming. Sam could see by the look on her face that she was scared – and she didn't get scared often. "My hand. Sam, what's happening to me?"

"I don't know, Ash…"

And then she actually started to cry and Sam really became scared. Ashlynn hadn't cried since they were little, and Sam had never been able to calm her down then. The only one who'd ever been able to do that was their mother. Ashlynn reached out with her good hand, her fingers flexing, looking for something to cling on to, and Sam obligingly gave his hand and winced as he saw her draw her damaged hand close to her chest. He knew this had something to do with the NanoShift technology. Ever since she'd injected herself, there had been violent mood swings, and the transformations had become painful for her. She thought no one except Sam knew that, but all of the men who had been near her when she'd transformed heard her scream, and they weren't so incredibly stupid not to realize her screams got worse every time and that the transformations took a little bit longer. No one, not even Sam said anything though, because Ashlynn's wrath was not something anyone wanted to deal with.

"Sam… Sam, help me…"

"I don't know what to do, Ash…"

"I need help… It hurts…" She sobbed loudly, and Sam had the overwhelming urge to hug her like he had after the factory had exploded, but he didn't. The fear of enduring her anger later was keeping him back. But that look… "Sam…" She was pleading now.

Ignoring his better judgment, he pulled her close to his chest in a tight embrace. Sam hushed her, and she cried, her right fist entwined his shirt, clingy furiously. He hadn't seen her like this in so long… Unwanted, tears started to blur Sam's vision, tears for his sister's rare moment of weakness, and he pressed his face into the top of her head.

"Sam, why is this happening?"

"I don't know, Ash, I really don't. I wish I did, but I don't."

Ashlynn sobbed again, louder and her body began to shake with her tears.

* * *

Commissioner Gordon's office was fairly large and in the shape of an exact square. The desk was also large and covered in piles of folders and loose pages and large, glossy photos. The computer hummed quietly from one corner, while a photo of a woman Eleanor assumed to be Gordon's wife smiled at her from the other side. All the blinds were open, letting in the orange glow of the street lights, and exposing a view of the falling snow; it was falling heavier and thicker than it had been at Bruce's. Eleanor was sitting in Gordon's comfy desk chair, her nose purple but bandaged and a warm blanket wrapped around her bare shoulders. Regardless of the cover, she was shivering, but it was mostly from anger at what had just happened to her and at Bruce for the way he had acted. Even though she _knew _his actions made sense, she was still furious with him for making her out to be the villain.

She sighed and leaned backwards in the chair, closing her eyes against the angry tears welling _again_. The tears kept coming. Eleanor couldn't seem to stop them from coming. Every few minutes her eyes would start to burn, her nose would start to hurt from the pressure in her sinuses and every time she sniffed, her nose would cry out in protest. Gordon was currently somewhere arguing with somebody to try and get her house arrest instead of jail time. She really hoped he was successful, because Eleanor did _not _want to spend time in jail, not even for a couple hours.

"Eleanor," Gordon's voice called from the doorway. When she looked up, he obviously spotted the puffiness in her eyes, for his face took on a concerned look. "Are you OK?"

"Not really, honestly." She wiped her cheeks with her fingers, took a deep breath and looked up at Gordon. "What's the verdict?"

Gordon's weathered face broke into half a grin. "I managed to get you house arrest. No one around here – except those who know about the technology – likes the idea much or understands why I want that. You'll have to wear an ankle monitor and you'll be confined until we find out who is really doing this, though. It will be a real house arrest." The look on his face was apologetic, and he sighed as he sat down on the chair across the desk usually reserved for visitors. "Are you going to be OK?"

Eleanor sighed and shrugged. "I'll live. It could be a lot worse than house arrest. I'll get my mom and dad to keep my dog at their house… If I'm going to be confined to one space for God knows how long, I'd rather it be my own space. The only problem is the whole being alone thing. I'm not really sure I'm comfortable with staying alone after this."

"Well, you could stay at your parent's house still."

"Oh… Right. I hadn't thought about thought. When you said 'house', I just assumed _my _house…"

"If I could offer my opinion?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think you'll be attacked again, Eleanor. This seems to be what the woman with the technology was talking about, and now that she's succeeded—"

"You think she'll go after Rachel next?"

"That's exactly what I think."

"Then I think I'd rather be at home. My home."

* * *

**Author's Note… **So I hope the reason Bruce reacted the way he did was clear. I know it seems a little extreme, but I thought that would be the way he'd react around all those people, especially when only a small group knows about the NanoShift technology. So yeah, I hope that makes sense. I've also been trying to work more descriptions into my writing, and I hope those came across clear and that they fit into the flow of the chapter.

As for Eleanor's decision to stay at home… Well, it makes more sense to want to stay at your own home—trust me, I can relate to wanting to be at home. I hate being alone in my new apartment. It doesn't feel like home. But that doesn't have anything to do with this fic, now does it? The other reason Eleanor chose to stay at home is so things later in the fic make sense and can be a little more dramatic. Let's face it, who would want their parents around when they're dealing with Batman and trying to save your life, the life of someone you don't like very much and when you are disobeying the law on several accounts. But more on that as the fic progresses. You'll just have to trust me.

Anyways, I'm generally happy with the way this fic is going, and I hope you all are too.

**Next Chapter: Going Crazy. **Lots of fun stuff. Crazy is always fun to write.


	10. Going Crazy

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Ten / _Going Crazy_

* * *

Eleanor had never felt loneliness to the caliber she did as she sat on her couch, staring at the black screen of the television she hadn't been able to turn on; she was sure if she saw what was going on in the outside world, the pain from being alone would only get worse. She hadn't been alone for very long, but the prospect of being isolated for God knew how long was weighing heavily. Detective Renee Montoya, one of the officers handpicked by Gordon to work on the NanoShift technology, and her partner, Detective Crispus Allen, had driven Eleanor home from the police station and had offered to stay with her for a while. Eleanor had all but forced them from her loft – a decision she was no regretting – and told them she'd be fine. The detectives had been given the duty of checking up on Eleanor every once in a while, so they had obliged and left, promising they'd check in as soon as they had a minute. Eleanor quite liked the detectives.

When she had been alone again, she had wandered around her loft without even the bark of her dog to comfort her since Blaze was still at Naomi and Liam's; the once comfortable and familiar surroundings seemed alien and cold now that they were her prison. After she had changed into a pair of pajamas, the weight of her ankle monitor quickly drove her to sit down on the couch. She didn't like being constantly reminded of her position. Eleanor hadn't moved since she'd sat down. Three hours ago.

It was nearing three in the morning when something finally dragged her from the couch.

A sound outside the window made her jump. She turned, cobalt eyes alight with fear and worry and maybe, just a spark of hope that she knew who had caused that noise, and stared into the orange night caused by all the lights of Gotham reflecting off the smog hanging low. Whether it was her imagination or reality – she wasn't sure – but Eleanor would have sworn to anyone she'd seen a dark, vaguely human-shaped form flying passed her window. She got to her feet and walked over to the window, grunting slightly as she heaved the heavy thing open and locked it into that position. It had stopped snowing, but there was a sharp winter wind blowing in angry gusts, and it stung Eleanor's eyes, but she kept them open and tried to make out any sign of the Batman amongst the rooftops surrounding her loft. Scanning the rooftops provided an excellent distraction from her impending mental break. Ever since he'd saved her from the mugger a while back, Eleanor had kept her eyes on the sky whenever she'd been outside at night, looking for the inky black of his silhouette and listening for the quiet flapping of his cape. Eleanor hadn't mentioned this to anyone, not even Adam or Shauna, but since her rescue, she'd held onto the slight chance she'd get to see him again, and maybe, just maybe, she'd get to talk to him again. Did she know what she'd say? Not in the slightest. But then again, she didn't think she'd ever get that chance again, no matter how much she hoped or got involved in the whole NanoShift situation.

Ignoring the biting winds, Eleanor shifted into her favourite, comfortable pose on the wide windowsill. Her hair whipped around her face and very quickly she started to shiver, but, as she had not found Batman anywhere in her sights, her mind had drifted elsewhere. Specifically, she was staring the thick black ankle bracelet with its little red LED light blinking at her like an eye. Eleanor scowled at the device, dropped her leg so she couldn't see it and turned her gaze back onto the city outside. From somewhere down the street, the sounds of a party reached her ears. She sighed heavily, for once actually wishing she could be at that party.

Unexpectedly, tears swelled in the corners of her eyes and she sniffed, making her nose throb painfully and, as she sucked in a quick breath trying to calm herself down, her ribs, which hadn't bothered her too much over the past week, protested, and she began to cry more, gasping for breath. Gotham blurred in her vision, and everything seemed to hit her at once. She was literally a prisoner in her own house. There was a madwoman ruining her life. Ruining _her _life in order to get to Bruce. _Bruce… _She sobbed rather violently at the thought of the billionaire and set her jaw, clenching her teeth tightly, which, in her current state, turned out to be a bad idea because she couldn't get a proper breath and she started to hyperventilate.

_Why did I choose to stay here? Why didn't I go back to my parent's house? Why did I choose to be alone? _Eleanor climbed down from the sill, not wanting to risk falling off the wrong way and made her way back to the couch, still sobbing harshly. She missed and ended up sitting on the floor, her legs sprawled awkwardly out to one side, the heels of her hand striking the hardwood floor and sending a wave of nausea through her. _What am I doing? _She sobbed out loud and sucked in another short breath. The lack of air was starting to make her head swim and her side was throbbing in time with her nose. _I can't breathe… God, I'm so stupid. Stupid! _She tried to take a satisfactory breath, and managed. The air served to calm her, if only momentarily. In that brief window, something else hit her, and she thought of her parents. They had been at Bruce's party. They had seen their daughter attack someone, and they had seen her being dragged through a crowd, her face broken and bloodied and they had no idea what had actually happened. _Oh God, my parents! _Any hope Eleanor had of calming herself down vanished as quickly as it had come. Images of Liam and Naomi's hurt expressions swam in front of her eyes. She gasped again, trying to get a breath.

Tears were streaming down Eleanor's face now, her cheeks soaked and her eyes burning as still more tears came; she was vaguely aware of the tears sliding down her chin and neck. Her breaths were short and ragged, still hyperventilating, and she couldn't force her brain to think rationally.

Rational.

What about the whole fucked up situation was rational?

There was some freak mutilating herself to get revenge on Bruce Wayne.

Eleanor and Rachel were apparently the vehicles of that revenge.

Her life was falling apart.

Her parents, everyone else at the party, and no doubt by tomorrow, _everyone _would think she was criminal.

She was isolated in her own house.

She had done _nothing _wrong.

There was no rational.

_Stop. _

_**I can't, I can't, I can't-**_

_Shut up. Breathe._

_**I can't, I can't, I can't-**_

_Just shut up and take a deep breath. Calm down. _

_**It hurts, I can't, I can't, it hurts-**_

_BREATHE. _

_**No, I can't-**_

_BREATHE. _

Eleanor tried and coughed. She doubled over, her cobalt eyes bulging slightly and her hands balling into fists as she gasped. _Can't breathe, can't breathe…_ She sobbed again and then finally, she was able to oblige the voice in her head, the rational part of her mind, and draw a satisfying breath and start to bring herself slowly under control.

* * *

Batman pulled off his cowl and gloves and tossed them on the desk as he sat down in the comfortable chair. He sighed, angry with himself for not being able to catch the woman responsible for attacking Eloise Griffin. He had followed her to a hidden car and had followed the car into a derelict section of the city closer to a small port, but he had somehow lost her in the winding streets and narrow alleys. That was unlike him. He knew he had failed because of Eleanor. He was distracted – worried about her. This was the first time something personal had affected him enough to let whoever he was chasing get away. He exhaled a deep breath and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes.

On his way back to the cave, he had swung by to check on Eleanor, unable to ignore his worry. She had seemed fine, if a little distraught, sitting on her couch and staring into space. As he left, he knew Eleanor had seen him, but that didn't matter. She still thought Batman and Bruce Wayne were two separate beings; one of which she was probably mad at. Again. Maybe that was for the best…

Sighing again, he detached the phone from his utility belt and pressed the speed dial combination for Gordon's matching phone. "She got away," he rumbled as he heard the tell-tale click that Gordon had picked up. "I followed her down somewhere near the China Docks, but I lost her."

_"I'll get my team on it. Search the area." _

"Good. The situation at Wayne Manor?"

_"Resolved. Eloise Griffin, the woman who was attacked, was rushed to Gotham Central Hospital and they repaired her injury. Last I checked, she was sedated, stable and will be able to leave in a couple days. Eleanor, who, in the eyes of the public, is the attacker, has been placed under house arrest and I've got detectives checking in on her, but I don't think she'll be attacked again." _

"And Rachel Dawes?"

_"There's a car outside her apartment, but so far, there hasn't been any activity. She's fine for now." _

Batman nodded to himself, glad to hear Rachel was fine. "I'll let you know if I find out anything else."

_"Right." _

He ended the call and replaced the phone on his utility belt. They needed a break in the case, some clue to who this woman was. Some time ago, he had determined she was attacking Eleanor and Rachel because the NanoShift technology didn't allow her to change her sex as well as her appearance, or else, she would have most likely gone after Alfred. He was the person closest to Bruce Wayne after all.

Batman leaned forward and brought up the new files Gordon had sent him. He scanned the photos of the deformed test subjects. They were only vaguely human-shaped. Their skin had taken on an odd greenish-blue tinge and their limbs were twisted into bizarre configurations, but were apparently still functional. According to the records, the nanomachines coursing through their veins had given them a massively increased pain threshold and the ability to move their warped bodies even though they should have been confined to a wheelchair. Several of the test subjects had lost all their hair, and a couple of them had bonus deformities; one woman's eye had swollen and was bulging almost to the point of escaping her eye socket. He quickly scanned the reports, committing the words to memory. All the test subjects had taken between three and five months to get to this point. Whoever had the technology in Gotham had had it inside them for just over two months. Things should be starting to fall apart for her.

He closed the windows on the computer screen and got to his feet. It was just past four in the morning now, and he was exhausted. He could afford a few hours sleep. Bruce stripped himself of Batman's attire and changed into the pajamas Alfred had left folded neatly on one of the metal tables before heading up into the manor proper.

* * *

The next afternoon, after a series of uncharacteristic episodes and a hellish morning at work, the woman everyone thought was Rachel Dawes stumbled out of the district attorney's office, a devilish smirk twisting her face.

Ashlynn, underneath the brown hair and brown eyes of Rachel Dawes, had started to loose her mind.

Her plot for revenge against Bruce Wayne had started off as sane as any plot for revenge could. Locating and stealing the NanoShift technology as well as all of the bank robberies leading up to Gotham City had been calculated affairs designed for a specific purpose; the robberies had funded the cross-country journey. The original plan had been to lay low for a while once they reached Gotham, but by then, the nanomachines inside Ashlynn had started to change her and her need for revenge started to take a bit of a back seat to her newfound adrenaline craving. The bank and restaurant robberies had been purely in search of that high and she was finding not even the success of her actual mission could maintain the adrenaline for long. The high she'd had after Bruce Wayne's Christmas party had started to fade even before she'd had her fit.

Ah, the fits. And the bubbling skin. She _knew _that had something to do with her loosing her mind.

But she couldn't spare too much time thinking about what the future would hold. All she cared about was getting her revenge and her adrenaline. And she hadn't got any of the latter from attacking Rachel. Sabotaging a reputation wasn't nearly as fun as attacking some middle-aged woman and sending several hundred rich people into a frenzy.

The black car she'd been keeping her eyes peeled for slid around the corner, and without either party coming to a complete stop, Ashlynn swung into the open and waiting door of the back seat, just as her flesh began its rippling transformation.

"How'd it go?" Sam asked from his place behind the steering wheel.

"Fine." Ashlynn clenched her jaw through another wave of the transformation. Changing back and forth didn't hurt as much as more, but she doubted this meant she was getting better or her body was getting more used to the nanomachines living in it.

"How are you?"

She growled in her throat as the transformation reached its peak, her skin bubbling franticly and her muscles contracting and expanding rapidly. Sam wasn't talking about the transforming or about how she was reacting to the events just passed. He was asking about her mind. Was she still sane? He was the only person who worked for Ashlynn who had noticed her decreasing mental state, but asking her how she was doing was as close as he would get to asking her outright if she was still sane; not that anyone would ask that question in those exact words in any case. But he was her brother, so she didn't get mad. He cared about her. She knew that. But she wished he wouldn't make any allusions to her sanity…

"I'm fine," she snarled after her mouth had shifted back to her own. Ashlynn settled back into the seat and buckled her seatbelt before closing her eyes and drifting into a state of almost-sleep as Sam drove them back to the dilapidated old building that was their headquarters. "Did you call everyone to the warehouse?"

"Yes. They're all there, waiting. What are you planning?"

She sighed. "Another robbery."

"Why?"

She sighed again, more agitated than anything. "Why does it matter?"

Suddenly, the car jerked to the right, flinging Ashlynn out of her semi-sleep and a small gasp flying from her lips. Sam drove down an abandoned side street and parked in front of an old apartment building. A heap of garbage in the alley was polluting the air with an unimaginably nasty smell and the harsh lights coming from the apartment on the ground floor gave the scenario an uncomfortable air. The big man unbuckled his seat belt and turned around, his normally soft grey eyes hard and accusing.

"It matters because these robberies you're risking everyone's lives on have no point! Someone is going to die eventually, Ashlynn! It might be me, it might be you! And why would they have died? Because you were looking for your next adrenaline rush? This was supposed to be about revenge! Not thrill-seeking!"

Ashlynn's mouth bunched tightly and her eyebrows knitted together, creating a deep furrow in the middle of her forehead. "I'm still in charge of this operation, Sam! I still want revenge on Bruce Wayne! So what if I take a couple detours to get there? No one has died yet!"

"That doesn't mean they won't! You're getting more and more reckless, Ashlynn!"

"I'm still careful!"

"No you're not! That freak, Batman or whatever his name is has almost caught you twice! He followed you after that party! He almost found your apartment!"

"But he didn't!"

"That doesn't mean he won't, Ashlynn!" Sam was almost pleading now, his cheeks red and his big hands balled into frustrated fists. "Someone is going to die, Ashlynn," he said after a minute of calming himself down.

"Just go to the warehouse."

Sam sighed heavily, closed his eyes momentarily. Then, he sat back behind the wheel, buckled his belt and turned the car around, heading back towards the dockside warehouse they'd taken over. The whole way there, he kept his jaw clenched and his eyes firmly on the road. He could feel Ashlynn glaring at the back of his head, and he knew that if he said anything, all she'd do was yell more. He knew their was definitely something up with his sister, because where she'd always been stubborn and mean, she'd never been reckless, and she'd never risked her life or anyone else's. Maybe they should just pull out of this whole revenge plot…

Ashlynn growled in her throat again, and if Sam had looked back, he would have seen her fingers going rigid and bending in odd ways and her arms shaking rather violently. And, if Ashlynn hadn't had been as stubborn as she was, she would have said something about the greenish-blue tinge creeping down from her fingertips.

* * *

It was precisely eleven fifty-two when Batman picked up the 911 call about the museum robbery. He had been sitting between the gargoyles on top of one of the numerous skyscrapers of northern Midtown, watching the cars and people pass many storeys below, listening intently to the voices of the police scanner in his ear; he was concentrating harder than normal to avoid a mistake like the one the night before. If he was going to catch this woman, he needed to be one-hundred percent focused. He couldn't be worried about Eleanor or Rachel while he was Batman. That was a job for Bruce Wayne.

_"All units respond. Robbery in progress at the Gotham Museum of History and Science. Reports of a woman changing appearance." _

That was all Batman needed to hear. He fired his grappling gun at the building directly across from him and swung down to the alley floor where the Batmobile waited for him. In one smooth motion, he retracted the line and reattached the gun to its hook on his utility belt before climbing into the driver's seat and speeding down the streets the built-in GPS informed him were currently the least used, thus providing the quickest route to the massive Gothic structure of the museum. As he entered the so-called "Culture District" of Uptown Gotham, all he had to do was follow the ear-wrenching noise of hundreds of sirens, all speeding towards the same destination.

He parked in an alley several blocks away and then took to the rooftops once more, traveling quickly to the skylight-riddled roof of the museum. There were at least three squad cars all ready out front, but they weren't advancing on the building. They were waiting for backup. With a sigh, he noticed there was a fairly dense crowd of curious Gothamites even this late at night. He turned his attention back to the building beneath him. Luckily for him, the panes of glass in the skylights were large enough for him to slip through; the only thing he had to do was locate the one closest to where the criminals were. With a twitch of one of his fingers, the night vision in the protective lenses of his cowl was activated and he peered through the glass down to the floor twenty or so feet below. He didn't see anyone in the first or second window, but he caught sight of a man dressed in black in the third and a group of five men in the next one, standing in a line, automatic weapons aimed towards the doors in case any cops decided to come through. Batman realized they were holding the security guard as hostages.

Batman stepped up to the next window and found a woman digging franticly through a display case.

He deactivated the night vision, attached his grapple hook to a rooftop fan and broke the middle pane of glass, descending rapidly in a shower of sparkling glass and landing with a dull thud on the marble floor, four feet away from the woman.

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd show up," she hissed, turning around. The woman was lithe with a vaguely cat-like appearance. She had blonde hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head and piercing green eyes. She tossed the duffle bag she'd been stuffing with stolen goods to one of her men and pulled herself into a martial arts stance – a type of Kung Fu if Batman wasn't mistaken. "This is what I've been waiting for. You've been getting in the way of my plans. I need to get you out of the picture."

Batman stood stoically and watched as she began to bounce on the balls of her feet. She was wound up, thrill-seeking. "I know you have the NanoShift technology. Is this your true self or are you masquerading as someone else?"

"Unimportant. Fight me."

He sidestepped a well-executed front kick and brought his elbow down on her knee, but she moved with the blow and, using her momentum, crouched down and swung her other leg at Batman's ankles, trying to trip him. It was simple to dodge – he just jumped over her limb – and he followed it by kicking towards her solar plexus. But she was good, and somersaulted backwards, rising to her feet and moving very quickly towards Batman, her hands flying and, had he not been wearing body armor, he was sure one of her nerve strikes would have hit home. As it was, his suit protected him and he landed a solid punch in her chest, knocking the wind from her lungs. She doubled over his hand, gasping. Batman reached for the cuffs at the back of his utility belt.

Something hard smacked into the back of his head, momentarily lighting his vision with tiny points of white light. Evidently, the henchmen had decided to move of their own accord. As his vision came back, Batman realized that, indeed, there were seven henchmen standing around him.

And the woman was back on her feet, panting slightly.

Except it wasn't the blonde. She had shrunk several inches, her hair was a dark, dark brown and her eyes were almost black. There was a phenomenally even smile on her round face.

Taking on eight people at the same time was nothing new, but the speed on that woman might prove a slight problem. And Batman didn't think her fighting skills came from any of the woman she was impersonating.

He ducked under her first assault, and, as he straightened, he pulled three batarangs from his belt and threw them at three henchmen who had stepped back, guns pointed at him. The bat-shaped throwing stars lodged themselves in wrists and hands, causing the henchmen to drop their weapons. The last thing he needed was gunfire. Even though his armor would save him from the bullets contacting with his skin, he didn't particularly enjoy the deep bruises they left when they hit.

The woman and two more henchmen came at him. Batman grabbed the wrist of the closest man, and used his own momentum to twist the arm behind the back and toss him forward into his companion advancing from the other side at the same time Batman stepped back, giving himself enough space to drive a powerful front kick forward and down, heading for the woman's knee. She moved her leg at the last minute, and his foot slid down the outside of her leg. But instead of stumbling like she'd hoped, he spun on his foot and drove his elbow backwards into her face. He felt it connect solidly; felt the bone crunch. She recoiled behind him, a short wail escaping her lips.

The two henchmen he hadn't dealt with yet ran at him as their leader backed off, one jumping on his back and the other football tackling him from the front. Batman spun quickly, avoiding the tackler and sending the monkey off his back and into a marble support pillar. There was a nasty crack and he didn't get up again.

There was a noise from the front of the museum. The backup had arrived and the police were coming in. Batman didn't want to stick around for that.

He turned to leave and came face to face with Eleanor.

He froze.

But just for the briefest of seconds.

It couldn't be Eleanor.

He covered his falter by noticing the grapple line behind the woman. Using the opportunity, he ran at the woman and, dropping his shoulder, drove it into her chest, sending her backwards into a heavy glass and wood display case before she knew what had happened. The police reached the room where the fight had taken place just as Batman grabbed his line. As the whirring took him to the roof, there was a gunshot and a bullet connected with his side.

"You idiot! Bullets won't stop him!"

Batman smiled grimly as he reached the roof and headed back to where he had parked his car.

* * *

_"The only information we have is that the Batman has shown up and has gone inside the museum. Some are saying he's going to stop the criminal, and some are saying he's in league with whoever is inside. No word yet if this is a known Gotham criminal or the criminal who has been plaguing the streets." _

"Idiots," Eleanor mumbled, running her fingers along the sharp edges of her batarang for about the millionth time. She hadn't slept since she'd got home, and that, combined with her recent fit or attack or whatever the professionals would call it, had given her the appearance of the walking dead. Her red-brown hair was a mess of knots and was in need of a wash and her face was rather smudged from the makeup she'd worn to the party, but she hadn't had the gumption to wash her face. Her cobalt eyes were red-rimmed and blood shot from crying and still rather watery with the tears that had constantly been hovering on the edge. She had curled herself into a corner of the couch, under her favourite blue knit blanket and, after a phone call from Lucius – who had been informed to her situation – was watching the news coverage of a museum robbery where Batman had appeared. The woman with the NanoShift technology was apparently behind this.

_"You say you've seen the criminal before?" _

Eleanor's attention snapped to full. The Hispanic news anchor was talking to a teenaged boy who looked way to excited to be at the scene of a robbery in progress.

_"Yeah man. She was like, running down the street, and she ran into me and tripped, and when I turned to like, apologize, she was like, a different person! She looked just like this woman on the other side of the street! She's like some kind of… what's the word from someone who looks like someone else or whatever?"_

_"Doppelganger?" _

_"Yeah, that's it. Man, she's like some kind of Doppelganger." _

Eleanor scoffed. _Doppelganger. _She knew that the morning news would carry the coverage of this incident with the name "The Doppelganger" tagged onto the new criminal. _Now all she needs is a costume and she'll be one of Gotham's trademark freaks. _

There was a flurry of action on the screen as the news cameras zoomed in and the police force – backup and all – stormed the doors. A minute later, there was a shot and Batman appeared on the roof and headed off screen quickly. Shouts could be heard from the crowd: _"Look! Over there! It's the Batman!", "The Batman! I see him!"_. Part of Eleanor wished she could be there to see Batman in person again. Her mind wandered with thoughts of the masked vigilante as the reporter appeared back on screen and babbled on about what just happened; her hand tightened on the batarang almost to the point of breaking the skin. Several minutes later, the police re-appeared, dragged five men between them in cuffs, one of which was unconscious.

The reporter ran forward to intersect the cops. _"Is this all of the criminals?" _she shouted over the gaggle of other reporters and civilians.

_"No comment," _the cop muttered.

_"So someone got away? Did their leader escape?" _

_"No comment."_

Commissioner Gordon appeared on screen, pushing his trench coat-clad form between his officers and the cameras; Eleanor spotter Detective Allen in the background, and a moment later, Detective Montoya appeared as well. _"All we can say is that we did not apprehend their… 'leader'. I have no more information for you at this time." _And he pushed away again, as the reporters yelled after him and one even attempted to chase the unmarked car he got into.

Eleanor watched the news for a few more minutes before switching to some show revolving around using science to prove or disprove myths. She wasn't really watching, more just using the television as background noise to help her focus and to keep her from bursting into tears again. She stared blankly at the television screen.

_Knock, knock, knock. _

Her first reaction was to turn to the window first. When she realized that wasn't where the noise was coming from, she got to her feet and unlocked and opened.

"Hi," Rachel said quietly.

"Uhm… hi?"

"Sorry to bother you so late, but I… I didn't know where else to go."

Eleanor realized Rachel's eyes were likewise bloodshot and there were still tears clinging to her cheeks. "Come in," she mumbled. She shut the door, re-locked it, and followed Rachel back to the couch. "What is it?" she asked, sitting back down in the corner of the couch and pulling the blanket up around herself.

"She got me fired."

Eleanor didn't really know what to say, other than, "Oh. I'm… sorry."

"I mean, it's nothing compared to what she did to you, but-"

"It's still really upsetting. I understand." And she did.

"I think… she knew that would be the worst thing for me, you know? My job is everything to me."

Eleanor nodded absently. Rachel was right. Both of them seemed to have been hit where it would have been hardest for them. Rachel spent all of her time at her job as a district attorney, working to make Gotham a better city, and she had been fired. Eleanor had been confined to her house and her reputation – not so important to her, but more so in connection to her parents and her closeness to Bruce – had been black marked. She had been attacked in such a way that would separate her from her family, the one thing she craved and really, actually needed.

"Again, I'm sorry for bothering you so late… I just needed to tell someone."

Eleanor nodded. "It's OK Rachel. I guess we don't really have anyone else to turn to except each other."

An uncomfortable silence settled. Several long minutes later, Rachel got to her feet and headed back to the door. "I'll work with Commissioner Gordon and Mr. Fox, Eleanor, and I'll keep you updated, OK?" When Eleanor nodded, Rachel smiled a genuinely reassuring smile and then unlocked the door and left, shutting it behind her.

Eleanor sighed and marveled at how chaos and misfortune could bring people together.

* * *

**Author's Note… **Bah, sorry it took me so long to update. I've had a lot of issues to deal with, the least of which being the fake chip on my front tooth falling off and me swallowing it leaving me looking like a deformed vampire. I hope the chapter was worth the wait, though. I really like this chapter. It was hard to write – I had to wrestle this one out too – but I really enjoyed writing the crazy bits. I can vouch for Eleanor's crying fit and breakdown at the beginning of the chapter. I've been there; done that. And Bruce/Batman's little breakdown sort-of-thing was me trying to show a little humanity and vulnerability and all that jazz.

So actually, what I did was combine two planned chapters into one. I wanted to make this chapter longer, since I'm going to start aiming for a longer chapter length. I also tried to focus more on the emotions in this chapter, which is why it may seem kind of… heavy. With the exception of Ashlynn, no one is particularly happy at this point in the story. I also tried really hard to write the action sequence more in the mood of the Batman novels I've been reading. I hope that worked out… is unsure

I just like to say a huge thanks to Matt The Batman Fan, who, through his reviews and constructive comments has honestly helped this story to a level I never would have thought it'd reach. So… thanks Matt! :) (hands you the physical embodiment of thankfulness, whatever that is)

And…

**Next Chapter: The Hunt Really Begins. **Exciting!


	11. The Next Target

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Eleven / _The Next Target _

* * *

The unstable calm Eleanor had managed to get on herself didn't last very long. When she woke up late the next afternoon, after a fitful sleep, she just sat up and stared at the wall for almost an hour. Her thoughts kept running around in a vicious circle: _Why is this happening to me? What did I do? Why is she using me to get to Bruce? What did Bruce do to her? Why choose me? Why is this happening to me? What did I do? _Just the same thoughts, over and over and over. The same thoughts as she stood in a shower that was so cold it was making her shiver and then, when she finally realized the temperature and changed it, was so hot it was turning her skin bright red and making her light headed. The same thoughts as she stood, wrapped in her towel, in the middle of her closet, trying to find a reason to not just put her pajamas back on and go back to sleep. The same thoughts as she sat on the couch and stared at the black television screen, hoping for some answers. Or something. Anything. She had ended up back in her pajamas and with un-brushed hair.

All the while, her ankle monitor steadily blinked its infuriating red LED light, reminding her she was stuck.

RING.

The phone's shrill voice made her jump what felt like several feet in the air, and for a moment, she just stared at it sitting on the end table. It rang again. And again. RING. RING. "Hello?" she finally answered, her voice quieter than it would normally be.

_"Eleanor? It's Rachel." _

"Oh. Hey." The weird camaraderie she felt towards Rachel didn't really help her situation, but she was glad – however horrid it sounded – that someone else had suffered misfortune at the hands of this Doppelganger. Rachel's loss meant Eleanor wasn't alone in this. It meant there was someone who understood and who would and could try to help her get through this. Even though Rachel wasn't under house arrest or anything, she knew what it was like to have someone violate your life and to use you.

_"I was just at Mr. Fox's office with Gordon and Bruce." _

Ignoring all mention of the playboy, Eleanor asked, "Did you make any progress? Come up with anything new?" There was the tiniest glimmer of hope in her voice.

_"Unfortunately, no. Not really. The only conclusions we managed to reach were that the crimes she's committed have a high possibility of escalating and that she's probably going to go after Alfred at some point by getting one of the men who works for her to inject himself with the NanoShift technology as well." _There was a pause, and Eleanor heard Rachel sigh. _"But that might not even happen since she's committed all the crimes so far by herself." _

"It's possible." Eleanor's attention started to wander as the circle of thoughts began its endless run through her head. The bricks of the wall behind the television suddenly became very interesting.

A lengthy silence. _"Are you doing OK, Eleanor?" _

"I'm fine," she lied.

_"You're lying. Do you want me to bring you any food or anything?" _

"No, it's OK."

_"You __**are **__eating, aren't you?" _

"Yes, I am." That too, was a lie. In fact, she hadn't eaten anything since the police had brought her home, and she wasn't planning on eating any time soon. The very idea of food turned her stomach. "I'm fine Rachel. And you can tell Bruce to stop asking you to see if I'm fine. If he wants to talk to me, he can talk to me himself." She wasn't one-hundred percent sure Bruce was speaking through Rachel, but the amount of newfound concern in Rachel's words and voice couldn't have sprung up as fast as it had seemed to. Some of it had to be from Bruce. Right?

_"Well… if you want anything, just call."_

Well Rachel didn't deny that the concern was from Bruce. _I'm probably just being hopeful. _Because, as much as she was mad at Bruce, she wanted him to call her and she wanted to see him again. But, because she had a bit of a stubborn streak, he would going to have to make the first move. Bruce's own stubbornness didn't make that a possibility any time soon though. "Mhm."

_"Bye." _

She hung up the phone without saying goodbye and went back to staring, rather unblinking, at the wall. New thoughts started to run her mind's course. _How is this going to end? What if it __**doesn't **__end? Is someone going to die? Is that what she wants? Does she want to kill Bruce? Could what he did be so bad? Am I going to die? Rachel? _Falling back to a habit she'd had a child, Eleanor stuck the tip of her pinky finger in her mouth and started chewing, still staring at the wall.

She felt crazy.

She felt like she was losing her grip on herself.

Confinement apparently didn't mix well with her.

Suddenly, Eleanor wanted to be outside, in the park, walking her dog, watching the children play, doing anything but sitting inside. She missed her dog.

She did not want to be in her apartment anymore.

Outside.

_Outside_.

Eleanor got to her feet and walked to the same window she always did and dropped her forehead against the glass with a solid _thunk_. She sighed once, twice and again, and wondered how everyone who went through house arrest didn't loose their minds completely. She wondered how someone who wasn't being watched over by the Commissioner of Police dealt with house arrest. She knew and thanked God, the police and, for some reason, Batman, she was getting special treatment. She wondered how much longer this charade was going to last because she didn't want to be here anymore. Thinking of the police, Eleanor glanced at the clock. It was nearing seven. That meant Allen and Montoya should be stopping by soon. And they would bring her food that she would not eat. It would just sit in the fridge and, most likely, go bad.

Eleanor returned to her position on the couch and lay down.

* * *

"It's the only way I'm going to get any closer to Bruce."

"I don't think it's a good idea." Sam leaned closer to his sister and dropped his voice so none of the other people in the room could hear his next words. "Do you really want to put someone else through the… _pain _and all that?" When Ashlynn scowled, Sam had to suppress the urge to shake her and scream in her face; it had become quite the common urge in the past twenty-four hours.

"I don't care what happens to any of _them_." _What does Sam know? He doesn't understand __**my**__ desire for revenge. He doesn't understand __**me**__. _"Just get me the needle," she snapped. "And shut up about it. I'm going through with this whether you agree or not."

Ashlynn turned her back to the henchmen in the room, staring out at the orange light of Gotham. She hated the city, for only the reason that it housed Bruce Wayne. She folded her arms across her chest and shifted her weight onto one leg as she waited for Sam to return from the bedroom with the second-last needle of nanomachines. Flicking a stray strand of her ebony hair from her face with a gloved hand – that strange blue-green colour had taken over all of her fingers and was encroaching on her palms – Ashlynn studied the face of the man she had chosen. He did not yet know his fate, and she did not know his name. But she had seen him work, and that was all that really mattered in this situation. He was diligent and quiet. He never talked back. And, from what she'd seen, he'd do whatever was asked of him. A grim smile took over Ashlynn's face as she pictured jabbing the needle into the man.

Sam returned then and extended his hand towards her. There was a scowl on his face, and anger in his voice as he said, "Here." And then he moved away from her to lean against the wall, his heavy-lidded eyes watching her with what she knew was disapproval and disappointment; he didn't think she was acting like his sister anymore. Their fight in the car before the museum robbery still hung in the air between them and every little thing seemed to be igniting into full-blown flames.

But that was another battle for another time.

Right now, she had to move on with her plans. She had to get on with her revenge. She had to get Bruce Wayne. Ashlynn turned to the men assembled behind her and pointed at her target, her other hand sitting dramatically on her hip. "You. Come here." She didn't miss the swallow as he stepped forward. "You've got a job to do for me." A little timid, a little afraid, but he would do as he was told.

He tried to look like he'd been given a great gift and failed.

"Come with me," she barked. "The rest of you, get back to whatever it is my brother told you to do." Ashlynn turned her back on her lackeys, who were exchanging confused looks, and led the way into the small bedroom she shared with her brother. It's only furnishings were two single beds and a shared nightstand. She let the man in ahead of her and shut the door. "Sit down. What is your name?" She tried to sound interested.

"Jared Manning."

"Well Jared… I've chosen you to help me with the next part of my plan." He swallowed again; shifted uncomfortably on the closest bed. Ashlynn rolled her eyes. _There is no place for fear in revenge. _"You should be honoured," she said, rolling the needle along her fingers. "I could have chosen anyone, and I chose you."

Jared's eyes followed the needle's path. "Hon-honoured?"

Her anger and frustration was rising quickly; the skin under her left eye started to bubble in response. "Yes." Without warning, Ashlynn stepped forward, grabbed the man's shaking arm and jabbed the needle into the meaty upper section. Jared whimpered loudly, but didn't pull away. Grinning rather savagely, Ashlynn stepped back. "Now you've been injected with the same nanomachines that I have, you can go after someone for me."

"Wh-what? N… Nanomachines?"

"You're hopeless!" Ashlynn bellowed, leaping forward and slapping him. She screamed again as her skin started to bubble painfully. "And don't make me yell!" Walking into the corner of the room, keeping her back to Jared, Ashlynn took a few moments to gather herself together and bring her temper under control. All over her body, she could feel her skin bubbling, pulling away from her; she could feel her bones started to bend. She propped herself up on the windowsill to keep from collapsing. "You are going after someone for me," she hissed between clenched teeth. "But first… I have to show you how… to use the nanomachines." When she turned back to face Jared again, she was pleased to see him nod submissively.

When Ashlynn and Jared emerged from the bedroom, several hours had passed and the pair of them looked much worse than they had. Ashlynn was covered in a sheen of sweat and there were dark bags under her tired eyes. Her hair was askew and there was a deep scowl on her face, and her left arm hung limp and useless at her side, the fingers bent at odd angles and it's twisted muscles unable to be hidden by her sweater's sleeves. Her good arm was shaking, and even though she had the look of someone who was very warm and uncomfortable, her sleeves were pulled down and her hands remained gloved. But while Ashlynn just looked tired and frustrated and exasperated, Jared looked totally and completely petrified. His whole body was shaking and he was still sweating. His pasty blue eyes were staring as far away from the woman beside him as he could manage, but he kept looking over his shoulder at her, like she was going to hit him any moment.

Which, probably wasn't far from the truth.

Ashlynn had taught Jared how to change his appearance. And he'd been given the crash course, so his body had been put through the ringer more than once. He'd also been privy to one of Ashlynn's fits – the one that had crippled her left arm – and that had shaken him even more than the prospect of his mission tomorrow. He knew what was in store for him. He knew what was going to happen as long as he had the nanomachines inside him. Ashlynn had conveniently forgotten to mention her theory that the transformations only came as a result of _repeated use_. She was pretty sure that wouldn't be an issue for him.

Ashlynn believed people worked better when they were afraid for their life. Call it macabre motivation.

Sam appeared soon after they emerged from the room and carted Jared away somewhere to tend to him. He noticed Ashlynn's arm but didn't say anything. That was a problem with Sam. He was too… soft for this job. Too compassionate. Maybe she should get rid of him…

Pondering the prospect of ditching her brother, the athletic woman strode across the room to the window and stared at the sprawling slum of Gotham beneath her. Bruce Wayne was out there somewhere, no doubt enjoying himself at a party or in the company of one or more beautiful women. The playboy son of a bitch would get what was coming to him soon enough. As soon as Jared was ready tomorrow night, actually. But until then… Ashlynn thought her tortured girls might be in need of a surprise.

Why?

For no other reason than she thought it might be fun.

* * *

Bruce Wayne was not, in fact, enjoying himself at a party or in the company of anyone else. He was currently standing on the corner of a twelve storey apartment building and listening to the city around via high-powered device in the ears on his cowl. So far, there hadn't been any word of the Doppelganger, and no news of any serious crimes. He'd already stopped one mugging, and he'd only been on patrol for about an hour. Listening for the Doppelganger's voice – or what he remembered as her voice – was a long shot, but, without a name or any other leads, it was all he could do. He was planning on changing his position every hour or so to listen to a different part of the city.

He stood still for a moment longer and then fired his grappling hook across the street and swung down to a lower rooftop and took off at a steady jog. Briefly, his mind wandered down to the people in the apartments below, and what they must think of his footfalls. His trademark smirk twitched on his lips as he sailed across another street and scaled a fire escape to the roof. A few more rooftops and a couple treks through dark alleys and he was far enough away from his starting point to hear new voices; a small bubble of hope he knew better than to hold onto appeared. Maybe he would find something this time…

Batman took up a position on the corner of his new rooftop and listened.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Rachel?

Startled by the familiar voice, he looked around and – feeling a little dumb – realized he'd ended up in West Harlow, quite close to Rachel's small apartment.

_"What do you want?" _

She sounded panicked. Bruce listened closer.

_"What are you doing here?"_

A new voice. _"Just came to see how you were doing." _

Slightly familiar. Batman leapt across the alley and fell to the fire escape, landing with a dull _clang_. As he moved, he kept his ears tuned to Rachel, making sure she was still OK. He climbed to the roof of Rachel's building and to the side he knew her window was on, attached his grapple hook to a secure fixture on the roof and repelled down the three floors.

_"Get away from me!" _

Batman barreled through the window, entering the room in a flurry of glass shards and billowing black cape. This time, he landed with a solid _thud_ and, as he rose to his full height, took in the scene before him. Rachel was standing her ground, a butter knife dripping dish water clutched in one shaking hand. A few feet away, perched elegantly on the kitchen counter, was a slight woman with black hair and watery grey eyes, her mangled left arm folded on her lap.

"Hello Batman," the woman said.

"Doppelganger."

"So even you're using that name?"

"Why not? It suits you."

She hopped gracefully off the counter, her arm flapping slightly, and walked towards the door. "Oo, someone's all upset. Don't worry. I didn't hurt the little birdie here," she sighed, gesturing to Rachel. "And I won't touch _her_." The Doppelganger turned her back on Batman and started towards the door. "But now, if you'll excuse me, I've got other business to attend to."

Something in the way she had said 'won't touch her' had triggered alarm bells in Batman's head. He leapt forward and grabbed Doppelganger by the arm – the bad arm – preventing her from leaving. "Who have you hurt?" he growled.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" she bellowed, flailing her good arm ineffectively at Batman's face.

He easily took her wrist in his hand. "_Who have you hurt?_" he asked again, growling even more.

"LET GO OF ME!"

Moving too quickly and too suddenly even for Batman, the Doppelganger thrust her head forward and _bit_ Batman's cheek near his lip. When he didn't let go, she started beating him with her feet, kicking any part she could reach, even though his armor kept him from feeling any pain. With a start, Batman realized the skin on her face had started to bubble. She was changing. Or something.

She was changing. And quickly.

In the span of about a blink, the woman had been replaced by a young girl, much shorter and much smaller, and, because her wrists had shrunk, she slipped out of Batman's grip before he could adjust. The Doppelganger was quick. Batman ran into the hallway after her, but there was no one there except for several _really _confused tenants, and one little boy who pointed excitedly at Batman. And there was no point in chasing the criminal because, by now, she would have changed her appearance, and Batman doubted she was dumb enough to change back to her normal appearance or stay in the open.

"Look Daddy! It's the Batman!"

"Yes it is Jaime."

"He's bleeding! Daddy, Batman's bleeding!"

The young-looking father looked into the dark eyes beneath the cowl and smiled nervously before pulling his son back into their apartment.

Batman turned and reentered Rachel's apartment, wiping the blood from his face on the back of his gauntlet. She was still holding the butter knife, but she wasn't standing quite as aggressively. "Why did you help me?" she asked, her voice carrying its normal strength, even though her hands were still shaking. Her strength was one of the many things Bruce admired about her.

"I was listening for her," he said, jabbing his thumb in the general direction of where she'd run off to.

"Oh. Well, uhm, Batman? I think I may have an idea of who else she may have hurt."

He looked Rachel in the eye and waited for her to speak, even though he knew what she was going to say.

"Eleanor Black."

Without waiting for anything else, Batman was out the window, and leaping back across rooftops, leaving Rachel wondering how he knew where he was going, but then chalking it up to knowing everything. He was the Batman after all.

* * *

But Eleanor was fine. A little shaken, but fine.

She was sitting on her couch, where she had been when the Doppelganger had busted in through the window – shards of glass still littered the hardwood floor – holding her knees to her chest. Instead of staring at a blank TV screen though, her cobalt eyes were blankly watching some random prime time medical drama. When Batman's boots crunched down on the glass, her head snapped up, her messy hair flying even more out of place, and there was a look in her eyes like she was expecting a nasty surprise instead of Gotham's Dark Knight.

"Hello," she said, overly calm. "You're bleeding."

"Are you OK?" he growled, wiping his cheek.

Eleanor blinked, and then deduced he somehow knew about the Doppelganger's visit. "Yeah… I'm fine…"

"What happened?"

"She came through the window." Eleanor pointed at the glass on the floor. "Screamed at me about not being more effective towards her plan or something like that." Eleanor paused, took a deep breath. She had never had much trouble talking about situations like these, just a quirk to her personality, but she did have to pace herself. "She didn't touch me. Just… yelled at me a lot and threatened me. And then she laughed. Like she was enjoying it. Like she was having fun." After a moment of silence, she got to her feet and walked to the edge of where the bulk of the glass lay and crossed her arms over her chest. "Gordon told me you chased the Doppelganger after Bruce Wayne's party. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I do. There aren't many people trying to prove my innocence in all of this, and while I know you're doing this to try and catch the criminal too…" Her eyes had drifted to the floor, so she snapped them back up to the cowl. "Just take my thanks, OK?" As she spoke, Eleanor realized she sounded more like herself. Talking to the Batman and taking solace in her fascination with the cape-clad vigilante was helping. If it wasn't for the oppressive weight around her ankle, she would have felt like the (relatively) normal Gothamite.

Batman nodded. "Are you sure you're OK?"

"From tonight, yes."

"And from the party?"

"… I've been better. But I'll be OK."

Again, the Batman nodded. "Good." What Eleanor could see of his face softened for a moment, and he looked like he was going to say something else. Then he thought better of it and his face hardened again. He turned, the edges of his cape lifting off the ground slightly, and lifted his foot to the window sill, preparing to disappear back into the dark city night.

"Wait." Eleanor took several steps forward without thinking; felt the glass slicing her toes. "Why'd you come here?"

"To check on you. I intercepted the Doppelganger at Rachel Dawes' apartment, and Rachel thought you might have been in danger. You are by yourself after all, and if you'd been hurt, no one would have found you until tomorrow."

"Oh. I hadn't even thought about that." Eleanor was slightly ashamed to admit that.

Batman frowned at her.

Looking for something to change the subject too, Eleanor's mind jumped back to Rachel's phone call from earlier. "In case no one's told you yet, they're thinking the Doppelganger's next target might be Bruce's butler Alfred. They think she's going to inject the NanoShift technology into one of the men working for her and get him to do it." Her cobalt eyes fell to the floor as Batman stared at her, taking the information in. "It's a relatively new development, so… I just thought I should tell you."

Batman nodded and then paused for a few minutes, leaning half out the window. A look passed over his face again, like he was debating saying something or not. "There are more people helping you than you think, Eleanor," he said, the growl falling out of his voice a bit and revealing a pleasant and slightly familiar tone beneath. And then he jumped.

Ignoring the pain in her feet, Eleanor stood there and tried to think what he could have meant.

* * *

On the roof of Eleanor's building, Batman pulled the small cell phone off his belt and pressed the button that would connect him to Alfred. "Alfred?"

_"What is it Master Bruce?"_

"Are you in the cave?"

_"Yes sir." _

"Stay there. The Doppelganger might be getting one of her men to come after you. I'll be home in a few hours."

_"Of course sir. Might I suggest you bring a few more blankets down from the manor on your way? It's a bit chilly down here this evening." _

Bruce smiled beneath Batman's cowl, impressed at the butler ability to joke even when his life was in possible danger. He hung up the phone and continued his evening patrol.

* * *

Back down in her apartment, Eleanor was sitting on the bathroom counter, with her feet soaking in a sink-full of warm soapy water. Her black silk pajama pants were rolled up to her knees and a box of Band-Aids sat on top of a black hand towel beside her. She had finally gotten around to brushing her hair and her teeth and as she stared at her tired reflection in the mirror, she was staring at herself and not the crazy house-bound inmate.

Something else to thank the Batman for.

There had been something in the encounter that had shocked her back to, well, not reality, but into a state of being able to accept her reality. She was innocent, and there were people fighting for her and helping her. Of course, the appearance of the Doppelganger might have helped as well, and as Eleanor dried her feet, she mused that some of her thanks belonged to the criminal, but she had no plans on giving her any. Eleanor covered her wounds in Band-Aids and hopped off the counter, her silk pants unrolling of their own accord. She drained the sink before going and lying down on her bed. She was kind of amazed that the Batman could have helped her feel like herself again. But why should she be.

He was the Goddamn Batman after all.

Eleanor laughed.

* * *

**Author's Note… **So I fail at life. X Sorry it took me so freakin' long to update. I've been suffering a major case of writer's block and, apparently a short attention span for some reason. I think it's because I'm so like… bored out of my mind. Like, I've never been this bored before in my life. I would be fine if I was getting more than like, 10 hours a week at work. (And that's only if I'm lucky.) I've got another job interview in a couple weeks, so hopefully that turns out well for me, because that'd be a job I could keep throughout the school year as well as the summer. Blah.

OK, so onto the fanfiction. I like this chapter, for all the wrestling I had to do to get it out. I'm trying to develop Eleanor's relationship with Batman. And it's not THAT kind of relationship. Pft. You'll see later on. Sorry it's a bit shorter too… Grah.

And Eleanor sitting with her feet in the sink? Been there, done that.

Oh, and I have a treat for all you who waited for this chapter. Some pictures! **(Don't forget to add and remove the spaces before copying and pasting the links!)**

ryvir. deviantart. com /art/eleanor-and-batman-79837071 -- This is a pixel image of Batman and Eleanor that took me forever to do.

ryvir. deviantart. com /art/eleanor-line-89977319 -- This is a semi-realistic drawing of Eleanor. I don't know what she's leaning on. She's just kinda floating there. This took a long time too.

fc02. deviantart. com /fs31/f/2008/191/e/f/the batchild by ryvir. gif -- This is a pixel of "The Batchild". Or, rather, what she would look like, were she actually a comic book character or I had any sort of anything for her to do other than be there. **(For this one, add underscores between "the batchild by ryvir". Add two underscores between "batchild" and "by".)**

ryvir. deviantart. com /art/batchild-id-89491200 -- This is an anime-representation of me channeling my nickname of The Batchild. My friend drew this for me, and I coloured it, and no, I'm not that skinny. Nor is my hair that long anymore. But I would run around with a cape.

And you should all check out duss005. deviantart. com . He does art for DC comics, and I believe he's currently drawing Detective Comics. His stuff is awesome. XD

If there are any problems with the pictures, lemme know in a review, and I'll give you the actual link if you want to see them. There used to be a way you could add links into the stories, but I guess you can't do that anymore. Oh well.

And there's lots more fun in the next chapter… (I changed the proposed title of this chapter and the title of the next chapter around because it made more sense that way.)

**Next Chapter: The Hunt Really Begins. **Someone gets attacked. Someone gets hurt. Someone does something stupid. Someone gets blown up. Sounds like fun… But at least Eleanor's feeling better.


	12. The Hunt Really Begins

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Twelve: _The Hunt Really Begins _

* * *

Ashlynn was seated tensely in the back seat of her favourite inconspicuous black sedan, her grey eyes planted firmly on the seat back in front of her. Her withered arm, useless and completely tinged with that eerie blue-green colour, was bound tightly to her chest with soft white bandages and hidden beneath her now customary black turtleneck. Her mouth was set in a tight scowl and aimed at the man sitting beside her, shaking violently and chewing on his bottom lip. It didn't matter that she had spent time with him, _explaining _what he was going to, and it hadn't mattered that she'd spoken slow and deliberately like she was talking to a _two_ year old: Jared Manning was still a scared little boy.

_This is ridiculous. __**He's **__ridiculous. _"Finch, drive," she snapped, delivering a sharp kick to the back of the driver's seat as she spoke. "We've got to get this done." As the car lurched into motion, Ashlynn momentarily missed her brother's smooth driving capabilities, but she would never say anything. Sam would use the time in the car to lecture her about how what she was doing wrong. _I'm not doing anything wrong. He's the one who's __**wrong**__. _Ashlynn reached down with her good arm and hauled a black bag up into the middle of the back seat. She unzipped it and pulled out a small device which looked something like a hearing aid and a pair of wire, half-moon glasses identical to the ones Bruce's butler usually wore. These, she handed to Jared, who, having already been briefed, put the glasses on his face and stuck the other device in his ear.

"You're going to have to suck up your fear and act like you belong there," Ashlynn snapped.

"Yes ma'am" he replied quietly.

"I can't have you blowing my cover."

"Right ma'am."

_Fool. He doesn't even realize how much is riding on his shoulders. _She turned her head and looked out the window, wishing briefly that she could cross her arms to outwardly show her frustration. _If he messes this up… _She sighed. _This is the best way for me to get Bruce Wayne. Kill him in his sleep. Betrayed by his dear old butler. _A savage grin twisted her mouth. The idea of that spoiled billionaire's butler – or someone who looked like him at least – driving a knife into his all-too-perfect chest over and over and over… Well, it made Ashlynn happy. She was going to get her revenge, and it was going to be bloody. Ashlynn almost laughed out loud. She probably would have if the car hadn't come to an abrupt halt in a patch of darkness heightened by the tall and thick-growing trees. _We're here. All right. Time to get this show on the road, _she thought, reaching into the bag once more and pulled out a small flat-screen monitor. Setting it in her lap, she turned to Jared, cowering on the seat beside her; he was already dressed in a suit identical to the one Ashlynn had seen Alfred wear at the Christmas party.

"Change now, before you get out of the car." Ashlynn flicked the monitor on. There was a pained moan from beside her as Jared shifted into the older visage of the English butler, and Ashlynn rolled her eyes. "You are such a baby." Ashlynn refrained from hitting the whelp. She didn't need to give him an excuse to blow his cover, to ruin her plan, which is exactly what he'd do if he was in pain.

"Sorry ma'am," he mumbled.

Ashlynn all but shoved him out the car. "Get going."

She watched with a scowl as Jared put on his best Alfred-walk, and then turned her attention to the monitor in her lap when he disappeared. Through a small camera embedded in the glasses she'd given him, she could see what he was seeing, and through the ear piece, he could hear her; she could still order him around. They were parked far enough from Wayne Manor that the security systems wouldn't pick them up, but not far enough away to make it seem weird to see Alfred walking towards the house. Ashlynn just hoped Jared could pull off getting into the house without messing things up. That was the _one _aspect of Jared's henchmen-talents which had impressed Ashlynn: Jared was phenomenal at breaking and entering. But that didn't mean Ashlynn wasn't worried. There was _so _much riding on this… so, so much. It wouldn't have mattered if she had the _best _breaking and entering artist in the world. Ashlynn still would have been worried. The only way she wouldn't have been worried was if she could somehow do this herself.

_Sam will see when this is over. He'll see all I've done for us. All this revenge I have achieved for us. _

_No, he won't see. He won't care. _

_He will. He'll understand when this is all over. _

_**No. This **__is all that matters. __**Revenge **__is all that matters. __**Killing Bruce Wayne **__is all that matters. Sam does __**not **__matter. __**NOTHING ELSE **__matters. __**GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD. **_

_Right. Revenge. Sam doesn't matter. _

_**Living **__doesn't matter. If __**you **__die, but he dies with you, all will be how it should. _

_Yes, yes. My life doesn't matter. _

A dark shadow fluttered beside the car, making Ashlynn jump slightly. She pressed her face against the window, looking for any sign of that damn Batman who had foiled her museum robbery. If he was here, that meant someone – probably Sam – had squealed and phoned the police or something; it wasn't a stretch to believe Batman had a police scanner or some other way of hearing what was going on. _He'd better not be here, _Ashlynn thought, her voice a growl in her head. _He's not going to ruin this. _

As Ashlynn turned her head back to the screen, thoughts of Batman ruining everything running through her mind, she reached into the bag with her good hand and wrapped it around a small, cylindrical piece of metal and ran her thumb over the button on one end.

* * *

But Ashlynn need not have worried. Batman was seated in front of the large array of monitors in his cave, currently channel surfing through all the security cameras and scanning each video feed for any sign of the imposter Alfred. The real Alfred was seated beside him, reading that day's issue of _The Gotham Times_. The idea of someone impersonating him didn't seem to be bothering him overly much, but he did seem uncomfortable being down in the dampness of the cave for so long.

"Who did you say gave you this tip, Master Bruce?"

"It was Eleanor," Bruce replied, his eyes glued to the screen. He was dressed completely, except for his cowl, which sat on the desk beside him, waiting for the moment he had to run.

"Ah. And how is Miss Black?" Alfred asked, turning the page in his newspaper.

"Fine."

"Well, I highly doubt that."

Bruce didn't turn to look at his butler. He didn't want to talk about Eleanor right now; he still felt terrible about the way things had gone for her. And Rachel. Right then, he was more concerned about finding this imposter and catching him. He was hoping to get some information from the man: to find out the name of the woman behind this, to find out her true motives and to find out where she lives so she could be stopped. There was a lot riding on catching this man…

"There," Bruce suddenly said, standing up and sending his wheeled chair rolling backwards across the floor. On the monitor, the imposter Alfred was walking down the hall, headed towards the staircase, nodding his head as if listening to instructions from someone invisible. Bruce pulled his cowl on as he moved. "Stay here Alfred. Call Gordon."

"Of course, sir."

Batman left the cave via one of the exits that opened onto the expansive yard and ran as fast as he could to the back of the manor, where he grappled his way to the window at the top of the staircase. He entered the building in a shower of glass and landed in a somersault, rising to his feet at the top of the steps. The fake Alfred had stopped halfway up and was staring in horror at the Batman. He seemed unable to move, but less then a second later, he turned and ran towards the front door with speed and agility impossible for someone of the real Alfred's age. Before he could reach his destination however, Batman had slid down the railing and launched himself forward, grabbing the imposter around the knees and tackling him to the ground. It really wasn't much of a challenge for the vigilante.

"You're not going anywhere," Batman growled. He pressed one of his knees into the impostor's back and wrenched his flailing arms behind his back and slipped the plastic handcuffs over his wrists. "The cops are on their way." Batman got to his feet, hauling the imposter up behind him, and tossed him roughly against the wall. There was a sharp crack as his head hit the wall and his chin hit his chest.

As sirens filled his ears, Batman ran up the stairs and into the study where he depressed the proper keys on the piano and returned to the cave.

* * *

Ashlynn screamed and threw the monitor into the back of Finch's head. "HOW COULD HE GET CAUGHT?! HOW THE HELL DID BATMAN GET IN THERE?!" she bellowed. Without waiting for Finch's attempt at an answer, she drove both her feet into the back of her driver's seat with all the force she could muster; Finch's cursing barely reached her ears. The Doppelganger expelled her rage with wordless groans and screeches for the next minute or so and then threw herself over the seat to retrieve the monitor. There was an older man wearing a tan trench coat and square glasses standing in front of Jared, his hands on his hips and a small smile on his lips. Ashlynn growled, her hand tightening on the monitor; the plastic creaked under her undamaged hand and something snapped.

This was bad. They had Jared. Ashlynn was _sure _he would tell them whatever they wanted to hear.

"I need that detonator…" she mumbled. Ashlynn lay down on the back seat, placing the broken monitor on the console between the front seats. She reached, with her good arm, under the driver's seat where she had kicked the black bag in her tantrum; she was aware of Finch watching her over his shoulder. "Don't just sit there ass. See if you can reach the detonator from your side." Ashlynn tossed the empty bag to the other side of the car. The small metal cylinder had fallen out.

"I can't feel it," Finch informed her after a moment.

"Useless!" Ashlynn swatted the back of her henchman's head with her hand as she sat up. "We'd better get out of here before the cops come back." When Finch didn't move fast enough, she hit him again. "DRIVE!"

As the car lurched through the U-turn and they sped back towards Gotham City proper, Ashlynn chewed her lip angrily. When they got back to her apartment, she'd scour the car for that device and then she'd silence Jared. She smiled as she pictured his head blowing into smithereens, starting from the small device in his ear. The bomb wasn't enough to harm anyone else, but it was more than enough to kill Jared.

The police wouldn't catch her. Not this way.

"DRIVE FASTER FINCH!"

* * *

By the time Gordon and his men had returned to the Gotham Police Department, the imposter had reverted back to his actual appearance and was shaking uncontrollably. Montoya had removed the man's glasses and earpiece, and they were sitting on her desk, while the man sat, still handcuffed, in her chair. Allen was leaning against the desk behind the impostor, his arms folded over his chest. They were waiting for Gordon to get off the phone with someone.

"What's your name?" Montoya asked for about the fifth time. She was standing in front of him, her hands on her hips, and she was doing her best to look intimidating. When the man didn't answer, she pulled up a chair from a nearby desk and sat in front of him, locking his gaze with her own. "_What _is your name?" Her voice was considerably sterner. Still the man didn't answer. "Look," she started, keeping her voice firm and her eyes narrowed, "this is how it works: you tell us what we wanna know and you get to cut a deal. Maybe spend less time in prison?" His eyes lit up and Montoya grinned, feeling they were finally getting somewhere. "Now tell me. _What is your name?_"

"J-J-Jared Man-n-ning."

"Jared Manning?" The man nodded. "Excellent. Do you work for The Doppelganger?"

He nodded again. "Ashlynn Ch-Ch-Chiang."

Montoya grinned. They really _were _getting somewhere. Just as she opened her mouth to ask another question, a familiar weight settled on her shoulder. She turned and nodded to Gordon, and then stepped aside to let the Commissioner continue the questioning. They were keeping him up in the bullpen so he wouldn't be where everyone expected him to. They figured he was safer up here.

"His name is Jared Manning, Commissioner."

"All right Jared." Gordon took over Montoya's vacant chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Where is The Doppelganger?" His voice was even, calm, almost friendly.

"Sh-she has an apartment," the nervous man breathed, his shoulders falling a few inches. "By the docks in Midtown…" Jared took a deep breath, closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. When he opened his eyes again, there was a new focus visible. He looked Gordon straight in the eye as he continued. "3114 Centennial Drive… Apartment…" He closed his eyes, trying to think of the number. "Apartment 905." He opened his pale eyes and stared at the floor. "That's all…"

"That's OK. Thank you Jared." Gordon turned to Montoya and Allen, who had moved to stand beside his partner. "Take him down to the holding cells. He'll be safe there. We'll move him to Central after we get The Doppelganger."

"Yes sir."

Gordon watched Allen and Montoya remove Jared from the chair and head towards the elevator. He returned to his office, where he picked up the phone and hit re-dial. After two rings, Lucius Fox picked up. He was still in his office at Wayne Enterprises, waiting for the information Gordon was about deliver. "He talked and we've got a lead."

_"That's excellent news, Commissioner Gordon. Have you informed our 'friend' yet?" _

"I will."

_"Shall I inform Eleanor and Rachel?" _

Gordon nodded and then said, "Yes. I'm sure they could use some good news."

_"I'm sure they could." _

Gordon hung up the phone and then reached into his pocket and pulled out the small black cell phone used only for communication between himself and The Batman. He pressed the green button and waited.

_"Yes?" _the familiar voice growled.

"We've got a lead. Her name is Ashlynn Chiang. Apartment 905, 3114 Centennial Drive, down by the docks. I'll put a team together and we'll move out as soon as we're ready."

_"I'll be listening." _

The line went dead and Gordon sighed heavily. He shut off the phone and returned it to his pocket. His eyes flicked to the clock, ticking away on his desk. It was nearing one in the morning. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, pushing his glasses out of the way. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

_Where is that fucking detonator?! _

Ashlynn clambered out of the car and put her good hand on her hip. She had spent the last half and hour searching the car for the device, but hadn't found anything. Her black hair was falling out of its tight bun in multiple places and there was sweat running down from her hairline. The scowl was planted firmly on her lips, and she wanted to yell and hit things. This _was not _how things were supposed to be going. By now, that spineless Jared would have told the police everything, and they would be planning to move on the apartment. So, Jared could stay alive a little longer while she moved…

_They can't find this place. They can't find me. _

_They'll have your name by now. They can find you anywhere. You don't have enough cash to rent another place. _

_They can not find me! There's got to be somewhere I can hide… _

_The Batman will find you even if the police can't. _

Ashlynn scowled and slammed the car door shut. She mumbled loudly as she ascended the rickety stairs to her apartment and threw open the door. Then she howled and tackled Finch to the ground, heedless of the henchmen standing around. They wouldn't do anything anyway.

"YOU COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT ASSHOLE! YOU **TOOK **THE DETONATOR!" Her one fist found Finch's face over and over again as she straddled his chest and the nanomachines heightened her natural strength. Pain flared behind her eyes, but she ignored it. "GIVE ME THE DETONATOR!" Ashlynn ignored her brother's hands on her arms and tried to stay rooted in place, but her brother was still stronger than her. "YOU!" she howled, spinning in his grasp and pounding her fist against his chest. "YOU TOLD HIM TO TAKE THE DETONATOR!"

And then Sam hit her. He never would have hit her before.

"Ashlynn! Get a hold of yourself!"

"YOU'RE TYRING TO STOP ME! YOU TOLD HIM TO TAKE THE DETONATOR!"

Sam hit her again, open-handed and across the face. Ashlynn's smaller body twisted and crumbled to the floor. He reached down and wrapped one of his large hands around her upper arm and hauled her to her feet. "I _figured _you would have something set up like that ear-piece bomb. You're not killing anyone else, Ashlynn. You're _done_."

Ashlynn regained her momentarily shaken senses and plowed her good fist into Sam's gut. It wasn't strong enough to hurt him, but it knocked him back a pace and made him let go of her arm. "I AM **NOT **FINISHED! **YOU'RE FINISHED!**"

Her vision had gone red. She grabbed the lamp off the nearest table and swung with all the force she could muster at Sam's head. He tried to block it, but the force of Ashlynn's swing connected anyways. Behind her, Finch rose to his feet and tried to wrap his beefy arms around Ashlynn and pin her arm to her side. She was faster them him and swung the lamp in a wide arc, hitting the side of his head and sending him to the ground, unconscious. Blood started to leak from the gash at his temple. She hit him again. More blood. Sam came at her from behind and the lamp connected with his hip, and then his arm, his knee. Ashlynn didn't even realize which part of her brother she was hitting, and she didn't notice when he stopped fighting back, when his blood started splattering over her chest and face. She just kept bringing the lamp down until all her frustration and anger had vanished and all she was left with was the intense pain behind her eyes and in the pit of her stomach. Her right arm was almost completely blue-green and there was a tingling that wasn't subsiding.

At some point, she actually looked down at her brother's body, the bloody pulp of flesh that he was.

He really was finished.

And she didn't feel anything except pain from her deforming body.

Ashlynn turned and picked up the detonator from where it had fallen. She walked into her bedroom, gathered up her meager amount of possessions. "We're leaving," she barked. "Follow me." Ashlynn turned to Kim, the last of the henchmen she thought of as even half-competent. "You're driving my car now." He nodded and everyone filed out of the apartment.

"What about the bodies, Miss Ashlynn?" Kim asked.

"Leave them."

Once she was seated in the car, she pressed the button on the detonator.

* * *

Gordon ducked out of reflex when the bomb went off. As soon as the noise had faded though, he was on his feet and moving, heading towards the mayhem, hoping against his better judgment that no one had been hurt. "What was it?!" he demanded.

"That earpiece!"

Gordon didn't bother to see who'd spoken. He just moved towards the centre of the chaos. There wasn't a terrible lot of damage; it couldn't have been a big bomb. But there was a lot of gore splattered around the evidence locker. Suddenly, Gordon regretted not getting to know the man who worked their better. He couldn't even remember his name. Montoya approached him from his side, bits of flesh hanging in her hair and blood streaking her face. She frowned and bowed her head. Gordon placed his hand on her shoulder and watched as the crime scene men started their job.

It was going to be a long night indeed.

* * *

Rachel was so elated by the new Mr. Fox had given her that she couldn't sleep, regardless of the late hour. They had a lead on The Doppelganger! There was a possibility this could be over soon! She hadn't stopped smiling. She was realistic, of course. This lead could be nothing. Jared Manning could have given the police a false address. But she didn't think he had. As soon as Mr. Fox had given Rachel the name "Ashlynn Chiang", she had dashed to the computer and found out as much as she possibly could about the woman and made a file out of the print outs.

And now she was phoning the only other person who would care as much about this as she would.

Despite the fact that it was the wee hours of the morning.

_"Hello?" _

Surprisingly, Eleanor didn't sound the least bit sleepy. "Eleanor? It's Rachel. Did you hear the news?"

_"No." _

Rachel thought that was odd. Why would Mr. Fox phone her but not Eleanor? "Mr. Fox didn't phone you?"

_"No. I might have missed the phone though. I was asleep." _

"Well, they have a lead on The Doppelganger! Her name's Ashlynn Chiang. I'm on my way to your house right now with the information I've got on her."

_"All right." _

Rachel said goodbye and ended the call. It took a few more minutes to get to Eleanor's Uptown apartment, and it was close to two-thirty when she pulled into the parking garage. Eleanor opened the door and flashed a quick smile, the way she always did. Rachel didn't expect anymore; they weren't exactly close friends or anything. They tolerated each other and bonded over their situations. They would help each other through this and then probably go back to the way things were before… Maybe a little more civilized, but Rachel didn't think they would ever be _friends_. They were just too… different. Or similar. She wasn't really sure which, and her opinion changed every time she thought about it.

"Where's that file?" Eleanor asked, seating herself on the couch.

"Here." Rachel pulled the file out of her bag and tossed it to Eleanor and then sat on the other end of the couch.

Eleanor rapidly starting flipping through the pages and Rachel could see her cobalt eyes zipping back and forth, and she could almost see the mental catalogue of information forming.

"Have you sent this to Gordon and Lucius?" she asked while she was still reading.

"Faxed it to them before I left. Although I'm sure Gordon already had most of it and more by now."

"Probably," Eleanor mumbled, her voice sounding oddly distant. Her eyes were back on the pile of paper in her lap. "How much of this did you read?"

"I scanned it all, looking for anything that pertained to her. I didn't have time or the patience to read it all in detail. Why?"

"I think I know why she's after Bruce."

Rachel couldn't help but feel a little angry and jealous all of a sudden. If she had just taken time to read a few of the articles and files a little more thoroughly, _she _could have been the one to find this information. Why did it have to be Eleanor? Why did it _always _have to be Eleanor? Instead of voicing her feelings out loud, she did as she usually did, and replaced them outwardly with curiosity.

"What's it say?"

"Her parents were killed when a supplier factory to Wayne Enterprises exploded. A faulty part that was manufactured here caused the explosion. Ashlynn and her older brother Samuel survived their parents. Apparently many of the families in the area lost at least one member. There's a quote from Ashlynn… 'Whoever is responsible for this is going to pay.'" Eleanor paused and looked up at Rachel. "It wouldn't be a stretch for her to have pinned the responsibility on Bruce. She was twelve when it happened. If you search for Wayne Enterprises in any database, you'll find mention of Bruce."

"That makes sense. You should call Gordon, let him know your theory." Rachel grimaced as she wasn't able to hide all the emotion in her voice.

Eleanor gave her a bit of a look and then nodded and reached behind her to pick up the phone. "Hey Commissioner Gordon? It's Eleanor. Yeah I did and Rachel and I came up with a theory for her targeting Bruce."

Rachel's attention wandered as Eleanor explained their – well, it was more just Eleanor's – idea. Her brown eyes landed on a small metal shape sitting on the coffee table. It was a small metal bat. It was one of Batman's throwing stars. Why did Eleanor have one? Rachel was staring at the thing and wondering so intently that she missed the most likely reason Eleanor had the thing (she'd found it somewhere) and she missed Eleanor hanging up the phone.

"Bruce gave that to me," she said.

Rachel had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything.

* * *

**Author's Note… **Again, sorry it's been so long…

Sorry for the random Metallica song title. Unintentional. I swear.

If I haven't already told you, during school, I'm going to try and get on a regular updating schedule. We'll have to see though. It depends on how I end up organizing my essays and such. But whatever. Here's the next chapter! (smiles stupidly)

Oh my God, I didn't write any of this chapter from Eleanor's point of view. (gasps) This one is the start of the heavy action, and I am _quite_ proud of it. That's all I'm going to say. (pulls the Super Clemens' stance) lmao. Only Shauna will get that… (switches to the Batchild stance, whatever that is…) There, that's better. (grins)

**Next Chapter: Friction; Unexpected Help. **So there's some friction between two of the characters. And then there's some unexpected help and we've got some… more action. WOO.


	13. Unexpected Help

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Thirteen: _Unexpected Help _

* * *

Ashlynn sat on top of a crate, bathed in a dim pool of light coming from the flashlight propped up beside her. Her face, twisted into an expression of utter frustration and annoyance, was cast in sharp shadows, and the henchmen assembled around her kept their eyes glued to her in fright. They had just watched her kill Finch and Sam. They had just watched her kill her brother. And she didn't even care. Well, she didn't look like she cared. She only looked like she was annoyed at having to pick everything up and move it. Or rather, watch her henchmen move whatever they could. She wasn't exactly capable of doing any of the actual moving by herself, not with her useless arm bonded to her side and her other arm and chest being devoured by the blue-green tinge and the incessant tingling the preceded the dead-limb status.

They had moved farther south, but had stayed in the same area of the shipping district. The police would have the address of the apartment, and they would search the buildings nearby when they found it empty. Ashlynn was fairly confident they would not expand their search far enough to reach this abandoned warehouse, and there was nothing suspicious about the building itself that would draw unnecessary attention. The building was still in good shape though. A few of the windows were broken in and there was a ton of garbage scattered around outside and rotting cardboard boxes and wooden crates inside, but there were nothing about it that said "hideout". The possibility that the Gotham police were used to finding criminals holed up in decrepit warehouses didn't even occur to Ashlynn. She was too busy fuming, too busy feeling like she had been cheated, like everyone in Gotham was out to get her and that nothing was going her way. The old Ashlynn would have known that was ridiculous. But the old and rational Ashlynn was gone, devoured by the nanomachines that had begun eating away at her brain.

Sam's death didn't hurt her. She wasn't sad that he was gone, and she wasn't sad that she had killed him. His death meant nothing to her beyond the fact she'd lost a good worker. Oh, and that it had somehow made her even less stable, but she attributed most of her declining sanity to the NanoShift technology. The blue-green had taken over her arms and chest and was encroaching on her neck and abdomen. She couldn't think anything without hearing that other voice. In addition to her useless left arm, the fingers on her right arm were bending and twisting in spasms more frequently, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before she couldn't use that arm either. Everything would have to be done before that happened. Everything would have to be done much, much quicker.

And not only would Bruce Wayne have to suffer her vengeance, Batman would too. He had gotten in the way of her revenge. He had made her angry, and with the NanoShift augmenting her temper, that was about the worst thing someone could do to her. She needed more blood. She wanted more death. But who to kill if she couldn't get her hands on Bruce or Batman?

* * *

Batman stood on the roof of the building where Manning had said Ashlynn and her gang were staying. He had already been inside, combed through everything and been disturbed by the lack of usable evidence. Now, he could hear the crime scene team moving around in the small rooms, combing through everything for any evidence; anything Batman hadn't already stashed in one of the compartments on his belt. They wouldn't find much. Gordon had taken his officers and was going through the surrounding buildings, looking for any sign of the criminal, asking the tenants if they had seen or heard anything weird, but Batman had a feeling she was smarter than that. If she had moved – and it was obvious she had – then she would have moved farther away then the building next door. Gordon would know that too, but he was bound by protocol and to leave any building unturned would be against that protocol. Batman watched the police exit the second building they'd checked before he shot his grapple line and zoomed across the narrow street. He was not bound by protocol.

Two streets over, the old apartment buildings fell away and warehouses took their places. The buildings were mostly abandoned, and only those closest to the water were in use by actual companies; the abandoned ones had become something like havens to the homeless of Gotham. A few large boats slid silently through the water just as Batman slid across the rooftops, underneath the billboards, keeping to the darkest shadows, and listening intently for any sounds of Ashlynn or her henchmen. Or any life for that matter. Anything that might get him closer to the Doppelganger. They can't have gotten away, not when they were this close. Gotham had suffered enough because of the Doppelganger. Eleanor and Rachel had suffered enough. _He _had suffered enough.

_"No sign of the police over here."_

Batman came to an abrupt halt on one of the roof and listened. It took him a minute to find the voices again – they were faint and distorted by some invisible source. He jogged across the rooftop until he heard them again.

_"What about Batman?"_

_"No." _

They were in the building next door. He silently leapt across the alley and crouched low. Batman pulled out his phone that connected straight to the one he'd given Gordon and pressed the call button. "They're five streets over, on Dockside," he said as soon as the line connected. "One of the old warehouses, right next to the water on the right side of the street. There's a large billboard for some life insurance company on the roof."

_"I know the building. We'll be right there." _

Batman ended the call and moved to the edge of the roof, attached his line to the casing of an exhaust fan and repelled down to the wide window ledge. As he retracted the line, he leaned into the grimy window, and tuned his high-tech listening device to the interior of the building. He could hear a steady hum of noise – either whispered voices or the fans working on the roof – but no one was talking normally, so he couldn't discern any words; the Doppelganger's order, he guessed. There was one spot of light, in the farthest corner from the window. They were probably over there.

Less than ten minutes later, the Gotham City Police Department vehicles pulled silently into the parking lot next door, and the police approached the building, as silently as they possibly could, which wasn't very quiet, thanks to their long coats and loose gun harnesses banging around, but Batman thought they were far enough that the Doppelganger and her men were far enough away not to hear them. Batman dropped down when he spotted Gordon's tan trench coat, keeping to the shadows, and out of view of the other cops.

"They're in the south-west corner of the building," he said.

Gordon nodded and directed his men. Without saying anything else, Batman returned to the roof and dropped to a window ledge on the other side of the building, right above where the criminals were gathered. Normally, he wouldn't have waited to bust in, but working _with _the police in this case was the better option. He wasn't sure how many of the henchmen there were and he wasn't sure what exactly the Doppelganger had stashed in the warehouse. He didn't want to get himself blown up or anything, and the Doppelganger seemed unstable enough to throw a bomb into the middle of her own men if it meant killing her enemy. When he saw the officers approach the door, and he heard the first sounds of a fight, he broke the window with his boot and dropped into the fracas, taking advantage of the confusion.

Someone leapt at him from his left. Batman ducked and drove his armored elbow into the henchman's chest, knocking the air form his lungs and crumpling him to the ground. A metal pipe glinted in the dim light, and Batman caught it in the spikes on his gauntlet, sent it flying as he flung his arm wide, clanging into wall. A searing pain appeared in his side, but he ignored it, concentrating instead on the men approaching him. His fist connected with a cheekbone, and he felt something snap, but didn't spare it a second thought. His elbows, knees and fists continued to pound into flesh as he whirled around, searching for the Doppelganger, the only woman in the room.

There.

Fifteen feet away, trying to wrest a gun from one of Gordon's men.

He couldn't let her get that gun.

A shot rang through the room as Batman shoved his way through several more henchmen, followed by a wet thunk; he didn't spare the moment to see who had taken the bullet, but he had a sickening feeling it was one of the policemen. He grabbed the female criminal by the wrist and pulled her away from the cop she was wrestling with. There were more shots, a few screams, but again, Batman didn't look. The Doppelganger slammed the butt of the cop's gun into Batman's cheek and struggled to get free. Pain blossomed in his mouth, and again in his side as she smacked him with the gun once more. Batman brought his elbow down on her shoulder and his knee up into her chest as she bent forward. She turned and looked up at him, eyes savage and full of bloodlust.

"_Batman_," she hissed. The Doppelganger twisted around, freeing her good arm and pressed the muzzle of the gun against his forehead. "You will _pay_. _You will __**all **__pay!_"

He knocked her arm away and twisted it around her back, the gun clattering to the floor. Batman kicked it out of the way as Gordon pushed towards them, a pair of handcuffs in his hand and his own gun in the other. The Doppelganger grinned and twisted in a way that should have been impossible, and kicked the police commissioner's arm away, her smile turning savage as there was a loud crack and a strangled scream for Gordon. Her foot appeared at the side of Batman's head, stunning him temporarily and giving her the moment she needed to liberate herself. As Batman rose to his feet, he witnessed a strange phenomenon as the Doppelganger twisted her body again, her skin bubbling violently. She ran towards the exit of the warehouse, her henchmen continuing to grapple with the police.

"Damn it!" Gordon appeared beside Batman, holding his arm.

"Get to a hospital. I'll go after her." Before Gordon could say anything else, Batman was running.

* * *

Ashlynn ran, keeping her eyes firmly ahead of her. She didn't bother looking behind her; she knew the Batman was probably following her, but she didn't really care. She just wanted to get him away from the police so she could fight him one on one. No interference. She could kill him, sate her craving for death. Ashlynn's face split into another savage grin as she turned down a narrow alley and plunged into the shadows Batman himself so often took to. Her grin only widened as she thought about her impressive performance. Apparently, in addition to the pain the NanoShift technology gave her, her flexibility had been enhanced; it was probably something to do with the changes that happened to her bones, just before they became completely useless. Batman didn't stand a chance.

She couldn't hear anything except the dull whir of the car engines a couple streets over, and a few louder noises from the warehouse she'd left behind. After a few minutes of straining to hear something else, something _useful, _Ashlynn surrendered and pressed further into the alley, forcing her unwilling body to change its appearance. Her muscles and bones screamed in protest, and her skin felt like it was going to bubble away into nothing. When her transformation was complete, she dropped to her backside in the grime of the alley and cried, the pain showing no signs of subsiding.

She _really _wanted to kill someone, damn it.

* * *

Batman had once again taken to the rooftops, looking for any sign of the elusive Doppelganger. S

he had slipped into the narrow alleys so common to the shipping distracts and had disappeared amongst the garbage and shadows. When the roofs started to rise and he realized he wasn't going to find her that night, he cursed and decided, since he couldn't find the Doppelganger, he should warn those she might go after, because he was _sure _she would go after someone. He had seen the look in her eyes. She was out for blood. She probably wanted his blood, but in lieu of that, she'd go after someone else, someone she'd already targeted.

He turned, a pain flaring in his side from where something had penetrated his costume and his skin. Upon looking down, he discovered a small knife, the hilt and a tiny silver of blade sticking out. With a small grimace, he pulled it out, some fresh blood leaking over the Kevlar of his suit, but it slowed almost immediately. A relatively shallow wound. Good. It wouldn't hamper him too badly then. He headed back to where the Batmobile was parked.

* * *

Eleanor hadn't been sleeping well. Even though she was (mostly) over the mental stress of being confined to her apartment, there was still the looming threat of the Doppelganger, and Eleanor kept having nightmares of being attacked whenever she drifted into a deep enough sleep. And no one wanted to have nightmares, but the only way to avoid them, it seemed, was to not sleep. She hadn't told anyone about these nightmares, because she didn't want anyone to worry anymore about her. Her parents were already in a frenzy about their daughter being under house arrest and Naomi kept calling, asking if she'd eaten at all that day, and Rachel seemed to be worried about her too – Eleanor still wasn't used to the idea of Rachel caring – because _she _kept calling and asking if Eleanor needed anything, anything at all. Lucius Fox, Adam and Shauna have even called at few times, Shauna and Adam attempting to amuse her by telling her strange stories from Engineering and Lucius trying not to sound like he was worried. Alfred had called once too. He had made no attempt to hide the fact that he was worried and he, wisely, made no mention of Bruce, even though he probably wanted to.

She was sitting on her L-shaped couch, staring out the window at the buildings, tinted blue with the coming dawn, and probably another unseasonal rain. It was November, for God's sake. Shouldn't it be snowing? Her hair was wet from just getting out of the shower and she was dressed in her oversized pajama pants and a super-baggy t-shirt. Eleanor had a bag of jelly beans cradled in her lap, but she wasn't really paying any attention to the sugary snack. She was just hovering in that space between awake and asleep, lazily watching the day blossom before her, her cobalt eyes unfocused and unaware.

The loud knock and sudden darkness at her window startled her.

Batman was crouched on the windowsill. Eleanor, after taking a brief moment to wake herself up and goad her legs into moving, crossed the short distance and let the Dark Knight in; the cold breeze that entered the room in the folds of his cape served to shock Eleanor into a state of pseudo-wakefulness. As he moved passed her, her eyes caught the bruises on his face and the blood on his side. There was slight hunch to his shoulders. He was in pain, and doing a damn good job of hiding it.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

He waved her concern away. "It's nothing. I'm fine. But you might be in danger." Batman took a few deep and slightly ragged-sounding breaths before continuing. "The Doppelganger got away from us tonight," he said, his anger at that fact plain in his growly voice. "And I think she might come after you and Rachel. It's not safe for you to stay here anymore. She knows where you live and if I'm right, if she is going to come after you—"

"I have to get out of here." Eleanor yawned, her eyes slipping out of focus and then back in. "There's just one problem."

Batman didn't even wait for her to say gesture to the ankle bracelet. He crouched down and pulled something out of his utility belt and started working at her ankle, his gloves cold against her skin. Eleanor just stood there, her tired brain taking a moment to process that he was breaking her out of her house arrest, and even then, it took her another minute to realize the implications of that. And then one more minute to remember that this house arrest was more a formality than anything, and that Batman would tell Gordon and Gordon would tell Montoya and Allen and no one would make any fuss about her not being in her apartment. Oh the joys of a slow-moving brain.

There was a satisfying clink as the bracelet fell away to the hardwood, and Batman rose to his feet again, the visible part of his face a little paler than normal, but Eleanor didn't say anything, because she knew he would just say that he was fine. And he was probably right. He was a lot stronger than Eleanor. She would never have been able to take what looked like a stab wound to the side.

"You have one of my batarangs, right?"

Eleanor blinked. "Uhm, yeah, but how did you—"

He pulled something else off his belt and showed her the little screen. It looked something like one of those GPS things people put in their cars when they were directionally challenged. Most of the little red dots seemed to be in the same place, right in her apartment. Batman pressed a button and the screen zoomed closer, one of the red dots breaking away from the gaggle. Again, it took Eleanor a moment to figure out what exactly she was seeing.

"Oh! You've got like, trackers on them or something."

Batman nodded and returned the screen to his belt. "Keep it with you and I'll keep an eye on you. I'll tell Gordon that I've taken your ankle monitor off and about this. You need to get somewhere safe."

"I can go to my parents'."

"Good." He moved back towards the window. "I've got to warn Rachel."

The growl dropped from his voice for the briefest of moments, and something clicked in the back of Eleanor's mind. His voice sounded almost familiar, but she shook her head, chalking up the crazy idea that she knew Batman to being very tired. She nodded and watched him move to the window ledge. He looked at her over his shoulder before he disappeared into the vanishing shadows of night. Eleanor stood there for a long minute, watching the sky. She found she was jealous that Batman was going to warn Rachel as well... _Stop being stupid, Eleanor._

She was kind of afraid to leave the apartment, to take the threat to her parents. But that was the only place she could go, that was the only place she felt would be safe. But she couldn't stay here. Batman was right. If Ashlynn, the Doppelganger, was after her, staying in the apartment was the worst thing she could do. That would be making herself a sitting duck. Eleanor chewed on her lip and she mulled over her options. She didn't have many, and out of those few, going to her parents' house was probably the best… No, it _was _the best.

As Eleanor packed her favourite clothes and those things she'd need, her mind mulled over what could happen if Ashlynn somehow found out where her parents lived, or if she was staying there. Images of her mother and father, lying in bloody heaps on the hardwood of the entrance hall of their mansion; the servants torn apart by the Doppelganger's rage; sounds of her mother screaming, of her father trying to protect her; imagined pain at being killed by someone with no conscience, with no emotions except anger. Eleanor sat down on her bed once she had shoved her things in a duffle bag and stared at the glowing red numbers of her alarm clock, watched as time ticked away, waiting for a suitable time to call her parents. A hard knot settled in the pit of her stomach as the images kept flooding, unbidden through her mind.

Finally, six-thirty came and Eleanor picked up her bedside phone; Liam was always up this early so he could eat a decent breakfast before he ran to work. After two rings, he picked up.

_"Good morning_," he said pleasantly. It sounded like he might have been speaking around a mouthful of food.

"Hey Dad."

_"Oh hey Ellie! What are you doing up so early?" _

"I… er, couldn't sleep."

_"Are you all right?" _

She nodded and then remembered she was on the phone. "Yeah, I'm OK. Just tired. Uhm, Dad, it's all right if I come over there for a while, right?"

_"Of course it is Ellie. You can come over her whenever you like. Has Commissioner Gordon taken you off house arrest?" _

"…Something like that."

_"I won't ask too many questions, and I'll tell your mother Gordon took you off your arrest, all right? We both know how curious she is and that she __**will **__ask a lot of questions." _

"Thanks Dad."

_"It's no problem. Will you be over here soon?" _

"Yeah, I've just got to grab a few more things and then I'll drive over."

_"All right. I'll have Nathan cook you up some breakfast." _

Eleanor smiled, despite the depressing images and her low mood. "That sounds good."

_"See you later, Ellie. Love you." _

"Love you too, Dad." Eleanor hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute. She wondered why she had ever taken her house arrest here. It would have been much more bearable if she had stayed at her parent's house. "It's because you're an idiot," she told herself.

Eleanor pushed herself off the bed and headed into the bathroom, where she washed her face with cold water and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She didn't bother to even pack any of her makeup, but she double-checked that she had her toothbrush and hairbrush and then swung her bag onto her shoulder and headed out in the hallway, locking the apartment door behind her. The elevator ride down was a little nerve-racking, and she kept picturing police standing there when the doors opened, waiting to re-arrest her. Luckily, that didn't happen. Of course it didn't. Batman had probably called Gordon like, right away. He wouldn't leave her to be arrested, just after he'd broken her out.

She sat in her car for a while, her hands on the wheel and her eyes glued to the wall outside the window. This was the right thing to do. The Doppelganger wouldn't find her at her parents' house. They would be fine. They wouldn't get hurt. She wouldn't let them…

The engine roared to life, sounding impossibly loud in the parking garage and she took off, not paying nearly as much attention to the road as she should have been.

* * *

**Author's Note… **I'm pushing this fic through until the end. I'm only working on this one right now. Sorry Shauna, I gotta get this one out and then I'll finished Intoxication and work on my Harry Potter fic. (puts on determined face) And yes, I fail at updating… Shh. I'm super sorry it's been such a long time… (sighs) I spent a good amount of time re-arranging the planning I had done for this fic so it makes more sense. FYI, I don't really like most of this chapter. It was a PAIN to write, and I re-wrote many of the parts several times. I hope you can find some enjoyment in it though. (smiles) Oh, and sorry it's a little short.

**Next Chapter: Strikes One and Two. **A drama, drama, drama, drama, drama, drama, drama, ACTION! ACTION! (haha, I'm way too bored right now. Badgers and Mushrooms and Potters and Weasleys…)


	14. Strikes One And Two

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Fourteen: _Strikes One and Two _

* * *

There were many things Ashlynn Chiang could be called, but a good driver wasn't one of them.

She had found herself a suitable car – namely with someone about to get in it – beat the guy up and driven off down the street, heading for the closest place she knew: Rachel's apartment. It was about eight o'clock. She'd be home. Ashlynn was sure of it, and that certainty – the certainty of a kill – was making her race recklessly onward, heedless of pedestrians, other cars and any other obstacle on or near the streets. She had already caused several accidents, and she had ignored every one of them, driving away as fast as she could. Some idiot had tried to stop her by leaping onto the hood of the car and screaming at her. Of course it hadn't worked, and the poor guy was now road pizza in the middle of some street. And they would never catch Ashlynn for _that _murder.

As the building appeared in her tunneled vision, Ashlynn laughed to herself and parked half on the sidewalk, nearly knocking over a tall, thin man with a very heavy-looking briefcase in his hand. He waved the briefcase in her face, trying to hit her, but she just pushed him over and stormed inside and into the elevator, picturing what she was going to do to Rachel. Taped down to her chest, her left arm began to throb in time with her heart; the nanomachines were moving farther into her extremities, flowing on the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Ashlynn fell backwards against the mirrored wall of the elevator car and gasped, wrapping her other arm around herself. Her entire body was hurting. Her mutations were progressing too rapidly. Somewhere in the back of her fractured mind, she was afraid she was going to die soon.

_It doesn't matter. You __**will **__get something done today, and you will get your revenge. Rachel is just the first step. You __**will **__get your revenge. _

Ashlynn gasped again, trying to get a satisfying breath and failing. "I will," she vowed. An evil grin slid across her face as the elevator stopped at what she remembered was Rachel's floor. She laughed once and then tumbled onto the hallway carpet, thoughts from both parts of her mind swirling around her head.

* * *

Eleanor looked down at the gun in her hands. It was a nine millimeter automatic; standard police issue. It was black and it was heavy and it was cold. Eleanor didn't like having it in her hands, and she didn't like that she needed one, but she did. Batman had told her the Doppelganger had gotten away and that she might be in danger, and that scared her, but it was kind of a hovering threat. It might _not _happen. But the gun… the gun made everything somehow… real. Tangible. Fear holding her heart in an iron grip, sort of real.

As she had been leaving her apartment earlier that day, Gordon had been approaching the building in his usual unmarked car along with Rachel. Seeing the panicked look on his face, Eleanor had pulled her car over on the nearly-empty street and Gordon had done the same, he and Rachel climbing out as soon as the vehicle came to a stop. Concern had taken Eleanor's chest in and she was finding it hard to breathe. Had something serious happened? Had someone been attacked? Had her _parents _been attacked? Had _Bruce _been attacked?

"I'm glad we caught you, Eleanor," Gordon said, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

"What's going on? Has something happened?" Eleanor tucked some hair behind an ear and crossed her arms under her chest, trying not to fidget.

"The Doppelganger got away," Rachel put in.

Eleanor couldn't help thinking: _Oh, is that all? _"I know that already. Batman told me."

"Oh." Rachel's voice had turned a little snarky. "You and Batman seem to be on pretty good terms."

Eleanor chose to ignore her, having still not gotten the answer she wanted. She turned to Gordon. "Is everyone all right though? No one's been hurt, have they?"

"No. Everyone's fine, Eleanor. But, since she's gotten away, you two and Bruce might be in danger. You need some protection." He reached into the pocket of his tan trench coat and withdrew two holstered guns. "I've brought these from the station. Do you both know how to use them?"

Rachel nodded, Eleanor shook her head. In the shadows of the apartment building, Gordon ran through a quick tutorial on gun use and had sent her on her way to her parents' mansion on the very edge of Gotham City. The gun had sat on the passenger's seat, under her bag, for the whole ride. Eleanor was quite afraid of the hunk of metal, and even though she knew it was impossible, she had vivid flashes of it going off and accidentally killing someone or killing her. It had taken her several hours to be able to pick it up, but that was something she knew she had to be able to do if she had the need to protect herself.

So sitting on her bed, staring at the weapon in her hands was the first step.

Eleanor didn't think she'd ever be able to shoot someone. She couldn't even stop her hands from shaking, and she was just holding the damn thing. After another second, she returned it to the holster and set it on the table at the foot of her bed. She stared at it for another minute before she lay back on the bed and picked up the phone from the nightstand. Something had made her think about Adam and Shauna on the way over here, and she realized she hadn't talked to them in a long time. She missed her engineer friends.

She dialed Adam's work extension. It was only six o'clock. They'd still be holed up in the basement, working away. A conversation with them would take her right up to dinner, she guessed.

_"Hello?" _

"Hey Adam, it's Eleanor."

_"Eleanor! Why, we haven't heard from you in forever! The last we heard you were getting arrested with murder charges pending!" _

"Adam," Eleanor warned. "Is Shauna down there too?"

_"Yeah. Hold on, I'll put you on speaker. Hey Shauna! Get over here! Eleanor's on the phone!" _

There was some muffled scuffling and what sounded like someone's something colliding with a hard surface. _"Hi Ellie!" _

"Hi Shauna." Eleanor's face had split into a wide grin.

_"Are you OK?! The news said you killed a woman and we haven't heard anything else? You didn't kill her right? You could never kill anyone!"_

"She didn't die, and no, I didn't even try to kill her."

_"But you were under house arrest or something?" _

_"Shauna, shut up. She probably doesn't want to talk about that." _

"No, I don't. Just tell me how you guys are doing."

Adam sighed. _"We're fine. Mr. Fox has got us running around in circles trying to organize the information on the NanoShift technology and looking for anything that will help the police investigation. It's crazy down here." _

_"And it's just the two of us!" _

"Well yeah. Do you think Mr. Fox trusts anyone else enough to do that job?"

_"No. I guess not," _Shauna whined. _"Hey, are you coming in anytime soon? I see you're calling from your parents' house, so you're off house arrest?" _Shauna's voice was hopeful and Eleanor could picture her friend's wide, hopeful smile.

"I'm not technically off house arrest. I had a little help… getting free."

_"Oh, tell me more!" _

_"Shauna!" _

_"Adam!" _Shauna's voice was mocking. Eleanor laughed.

"You two sound like you've spent way too much time together."

_"But anyway, Shauna's wonderings are shared. Are you coming in anytime soon?" _

"I don't know you guys. My life's kind of in danger here, I don't know what I'll be able to do." Eleanor paused, chewed her lip for a minute. "Actually, I'm really scared. Gordon gave me a gun and I don't even know what to do… I'll be happy when things go back to normal."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. _"Do you think things ever will go back to normal?" _

"I don't know…"

A lengthy silence followed, but something that could have been uncomfortable and tense was oddly welcome and Eleanor enjoyed just knowing her two best friends were sitting around the phone, looking at it and wishing her the best. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, she was called downstairs for dinner. She said a rather bitter goodbye and promised the engineers that she'd see them as soon as she could, before she hung up and descended into the familiar and warm dining room where quite the feast for a weeknight was set across the table.

"What's the occasion?" Eleanor asked as she took her seat to the left of her father's chair.

"Nothing dear; just that you're home for a while." Naomi smiled broadly, but it didn't reach her eyes. Eleanor was quite aware her parents had been alerted to the situation and it was only a short jump to the conclusion that her mother was worried about her. "Just enjoy it, honey."

She nodded and smiled at Liam before scooping mashed potatoes onto her plate. Dinner was relatively quiet affair; Eleanor didn't know what to say. Neither of her parents needed to know the whole story, did they? Things would be fine without them knowing every single detail. Maybe the less they knew, the less danger they would be in. No, that was probably not true. They were probably in danger either way. What had she been thinking coming here? Eleanor stared hard at her food on the plate, thinking only of the worst possible situations that could come of this. She realized she had made a very stupid decision. She should leave… but her parents wouldn't let her now, not that she was finally home for a while…

"Honey, are you OK? You look a little pale."

Eleanor looked up at her mother and smiled best she could. "Yeah, I'm fine… I'm just tired." The all purpose excuse. "I talked to Adam and Shauna on the phone before supper and I realized how much I miss them."

Naomi smiled warmly. "You'll see them soon, hon. As soon as all this mess is cleared up."

"You're probably right."

Liam reached over and placed his hand on top of Eleanor's. "I'm sure your mother is right and I'm sure the police will sort this out soon."

"They'll probably enlist Batman's help," Naomi said, her voice sounding slightly enticing. She knew her daughter was infatuated with the hero; she had been since he'd shown up in Gotham. "Maybe you'll get to meet him."

"I already have. He's already helping."

The conversation dissolved into gossip about Batman and Naomi pestering Eleanor about her lack of conversation with Bruce. For a while, Eleanor forgot about all the danger and things felt normal again. There was no Doppelganger anymore and no impending threat on her life. She laughed and got a little angry when her mother insisted she wasn't trying hard enough to get back on good terms with Bruce. Dinner lasted two hours and a bit, and it was around eight o'clock by the time Eleanor trudged up the stairs to her room, planning on reading until she fell asleep like she had when she'd been a teenager.

* * *

The forest around the mansion was damn thick, and proving a bitch to get through with only one good arm, and Ashlynn's other arm was almost done for; there were periods of a few minutes when the electrical impulses from her addled brain were not reaching her arm and it hung limp at her side. She had lost her shoes somewhere and her feet were torn and bleeding from walking across the hard, plant detritus- and debris-covered forest floor was starting to wear on her frayed nerves.

The voice in her head hadn't stopped since she'd left Rachel's apartment, the assistant district attorney lying bloody and barely conscious on the floor. She hadn't been able to kill Rachel because one of the damn neighbours had heard the scuffle and called the police and they had arrived way to quickly for Ashlynn to finish the job. Apparently, they had only been one or two street over. So she was unfulfilled. She had to kill. Wanted to. Needed to. Blood; she wanted it. The voice kept chanting one name over and over in her head, and it wasn't the person she wanted to kill the most. It was the easiest person.

_Eleanor. Eleanor. Eleanor. _

Ashlynn tried to scream, but it came out a straggled gurgling noise. She couldn't fight her fractured mind anymore, couldn't repress her primal urges. Not that she really wanted to. Those carnal desires coursing through her mind and her body felt right. Felt good.

_Eleanor. Eleanor. Eleanor. _

The stupid bitch was in the way.

Need to kill her.

Then kill Wayne. Then kill Wayne.

Ashlynn snarled and approached the house, using her dead shoulder to throw herself through a window.

* * *

It was nearing nine o'clock when her cell phone rang. Eleanor put her book down, spine up and pages spread on her comforter and flipped the phone to her. "Hello?"

_"Eleanor, it's Gordon. You've got to get everyone out of the house. The Doppelganger attacked Rachel and she's heading for your house. She's after you, but she'll attack anyone who gets in her way."_

"Is Rachel OK?"

_"She's in the hospital. Get everyone out. I'm on my way there." _

Eleanor snapped the phone shut and tucked it into her pocket as she stood up. As she headed for the door, she grabbed the holstered gun, pulling it out of the belt and cocking it like Gordon had showed her how. She had to force herself to not breath too heavily as she descended the stairs, the gun pointed carefully at the floor. It would be much better to accidentally shoot someone in the foot than kill one of her parents or any of the house staff.

At the bottom of the stairs, Eleanor stopped. Holding her breath, she listened for any sounds of dishes being cleaned and put away or the idle chatter that always filled the halls.

There was none.

Something was very, very wrong.

Cautiously, Eleanor proceeded towards the living room where her parents sat after dinner. The TV was still on, but it was muted. The lights were off, and the black and white images sent spasms of bluish light across the room. Liam had been watching some old horror movie; the cliché of the moment wasn't lost on Eleanor, but she had no spare breath to appreciate it. Her blood started to pound in her ears, and try as she might, she couldn't make it cease. She couldn't hear anything beyond the _thud, thud, thud_ and her vision kept being drawn to the light of the television. The darkness around her seemed to be tangible and closing in, constricting her movements; the gun was cold and heavy in her hands.

"There's Eleanor," someone hissed.

Her head snapped around to the corner of the room, and through some sort of instinct, the gun rose to point.

"Ah, are you going to shoot me?"

There was a strange tone to the voice, but Eleanor recognized it as Ashlynn.

The Doppelganger was already there.

"Where are my parents?" she asked, voice shaking and sounding nothing like herself.

The lights flared on, burning Eleanor's eyes and she saw Liam and Naomi lying on the floor, blood pooling beneath them. Eleanor gasped and choked on a breath, her first thought was her parents were dead, but Liam coughed and Naomi's hand clenched in time with her teeth, and Eleanor smiled, exhaling a shaking breath.

"I have no issue with them. It's you I came for."

There was a sound more animalistic than human and the Doppelganger's body, heavy with the dead weight of her arm, shoulder and part of her back and leg, collided into Eleanor and the two went flying into the solid plaster wall, something cracking ominously. Eleanor pushed her off, and raised her empty hand. Panicked, her cobalt eyes swung around and located the gun five or so feet to her right. Unmindful of the refreshed pain in her ribs, Eleanor threw herself towards the weapon, the only thought in her mind protecting herself.

"You are in my way! _You must be killed. I HAVE TO KILL YOU!" _

A hand wrapped like a vice around Eleanor's ankle and an inhuman strength pulled her backwards, her nails scratching desperately at the hardwood, her voice escaping her throat in a strangled scream, and tossed her into the back of the couch, the wood frame cracking under her weight.

Eleanor pushed herself to her feet, blinking to banish points of light from her vision. Her heart was bounding and she was breathing heavily. She was absolutely terrified. But she had to service. The Doppelganger's foot connected with her cheek, sending her back to the floor, the salty and metallic taste of blood dripping down her throat and leaking over her lips. Her vision was blurring now and the room didn't seem to want spinning. Somehow, adrenaline pumping, she managed to get to her feet again and remain there as Ashlynn punched her stomach again and tried to get her hands around Eleanor's throat.

_"_You **must **die."

"What did you do to the staff?" Eleanor asked, voice muffled through blood and swollen flesh.

"DON'T SPEAK!"

Eleanor tumbled over the back of the couch to avoid another assault and rolled to the floor, landing loudly beside Liam's form. One eye was open and his hand wrapped around his daughter's wrist.

"The police are coming," Eleanor whispered. "You'll be OK…" It was all she could think to say, but she had to make it true. Her parents couldn't die, she couldn't die… They had to survive.

Pulling free from her father's hand, she used the coffee table to push herself back to her feet. She could hear the Doppelganger screaming at something or someone behind her and had the capacity left to realize she could do real damage while Ashlynn was distracted with whatever it was. Her hands found the heavy glass bowl that adorned the table and pushed it over, dumping most of the decorative stones onto the floor. She hefted it into her shaking arms and stumbled around the couch, blinking her eyes like mad to clear her vision and her head. Using some adrenaline-based strength, Eleanor brought the bowl down on Ashlynn's head and fell to her knees as her target collapsed to the ground in front of her.

Eleanor leaned backwards into the couch and watched, confused, as the skin on Ashlynn's face rapidly took on a bluish-green colour and started to bubble. She started to scream, high-pitched and ragged and her right arm spasmed and bent backwards in a way that should have been impossible and then snapped back and then her legs followed suit.

After a minute of watching, Eleanor slowly crawled forward, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch, planning to tie up the criminal and put an end to this whole debacle forever.

"Not so _fast_," Ashlynn snarled.

She grabbed the front of Eleanor's shirt and pulled her forward so she could smash her head into Eleanor's face. The young woman screamed, falling back onto her backside, one hand flying to her face to try and stem the flow of blood. Through her blurry and bloody vision, Eleanor saw Ashlynn get to her feet and half-limped, half-ran out of the house, sirens filling the air.

Feeling like an utter failure, Eleanor remained on the floor, and pressed the blanket to her face and started to cry, all the pain she should have felt before flooding over her.

"Eleanor! Eleanor, where are you?"

"In here," she said, but obstructed by her injuries and the blanket, it came out garbled and unintelligible.

Gordon came anyway, two paramedics and two cops on his heels. Immediately, Liam and Naomi were put on stretchers and carted out to the waiting ambulances Gordon had been wise enough to call for ahead of time, and then another, younger paramedic came inside to drag Eleanor out to the ambulance to tend to her mostly superficial injuries. The police commissioner went to check on the rest of the house staff and see if anyone had managed to catch the illusive Doppelganger.

One of the paramedics who had tended to her parents approached her and stood a few feet in front of her. "Your father will make a full recovery at home. He just has to come to the hospital to get a cast put on his arm and the rest of his injuries are superficial."

"And my mom?"

"… She's a little worse for wear, I'm afraid. She'll have to stay in the hospital for a while and she has to have minor surgery to repair a small tear in her bowel. She's already been rushed to Gotham Central."

Eleanor bit her lip and nodded. "Thank you…"

The paramedic nodded and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before he turned and headed back to the ambulance where Liam was being attended.

Commissioner Gordon came walking out of the mansion, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of her tan trench coat. There was a contemplative look on his face. It wasn't a happy one. He sat down beside Eleanor on the floor of the ambulance and sighed, pulling his coat tighter around himself. "What happened?" he asked.

Eleanor sighed and closed her eyes, trying to come to a point where she could relive the experience. She had to tell Gordon. He had to know, of all people. "After you called…" She took a shaky breath, as deep as she could before continuing. "I went downstairs and she was there… She attacked me." Gordon sighed again and placed a hand gently on her shoulder as she sighed, trying to keep from crying. "Then I let her get away."

A moment of silence. "It's not your fault, Eleanor."

They both looked up at the voice. Batman was standing to one side of the ambulance, half in the shadows. Eleanor winced as she got to her feet and put one hand on her re-cracked ribs as she hobbled the few feet to stand in front of him. She stumbled, but Batman caught her and pulled her back to her feet.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Just… lightheaded." Eleanor leaned into him a bit, supporting herself. "I want in."

"Sit back down, Eleanor. And you want in what?"

She didn't oblige the caped vigilante, just remained half-standing, half-leaning on Batman and looked up at him with her eyes set to intense. "I want in. I'm going to fight the bitch with you. She hurt my mom…"

"You want revenge?" As Eleanor nodded, Batman briefly considered telling her that wasn't something to pursue, that she wouldn't get what she was looking for, but he didn't. After all, revenge was the largest motivation to him becoming who he was. "… I'm not going to let you fight her."

"I'm going to do it anyway."

"Eleanor, it's too dangerous."

"No. I'm going to fight her. I'm going to get her back for what she did to my mother!" Another wave of lightheadedness washed over her Eleanor and her knees gave out. She would have fallen if Batman's arm still hadn't been around her waist. "I'm not going to let this go… I can't."

"Sit back down."

This time she did oblige and took up her spot beside Gordon. He handed her a bottle of water. "Eleanor, you can't fight in your currently condition. Your ribs are broken again and so is your nose. And you're on painkillers. You could really hurt yourself."

"It's my mother!"

A silence settled over the three of them. Eleanor's face was set and she was staring at the ground. Gordon was thinking of something he could say to try and sway Eleanor's mind away from fighting for her mother and putting her own life at risk. Batman was battling with himself over whether or not he was going to let her fight. Once the paramedics had finished with Liam, he walked over to Eleanor, smiling sadly. Batman slipped backwards into the shadows.

"How are you feeling honey?"

"… All right."

He wrapped his good arm around her shoulders. "It'll be all right, hon. Your mother will be fine. She's strong. She'll pull through."

Eleanor smiled. "Don't you have to go to the hospital?"

"I'm on my way." Liam smiled in his fatherly-warm way. "I just thought I'd make sure you were fine before I left." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'll call you tomorrow, OK?"

"OK, I'll stay at the house. Love you."

"Love you too." He turned to Commissioner Gordon and shook his hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

As Liam left, Eleanor turned her eyes on the Commissioner. "I'm fighting for my mother, Commissioner. Regardless of my injuries. She's my mom and I have to fight for her." She stared at him until he sighed and turned to face her. He opened his mouth to say something, but Batman stepped back into the scene and some force made Eleanor turn to face him instead.

"You have to listen to everything I say."

Eleanor nodded.

* * *

**Author's Note… **OK, so I have to apologize again, because this took me forever to get out. I had a lot of personal issues to deal with and school and work keep getting in the way. But it's out now, and I hope you all like it. (smiles sheepishly) And I know the end is kind of weird, but I couldn't think of anything else… (lame)

Oh, there are six planned chapters left of this story. SIX. Almost done!

**Next Chapter: And the Chase Ensues. **So the heavy action has begun and it won't stop for five whole chapters. I hope. I'm a little rusty with action sequences, but they should be good.


	15. And the Chase Ensues

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Fifteen: _And The Chase Ensues _

* * *

Bruce stared at the batarangs scattered, along with the other tools kept on his utility belt, across the metal table in front of him. Checking the equipment and restocking the belt was a task that normally would only take twenty minutes or so, but right then… Right then, he couldn't concentrate. On anything. He was furious with himself. How could he have agreed to let Eleanor fight? There was no way he could fight the Doppelganger _and _protect Eleanor. Rachel was already in the hospital because he hadn't been able to catch the criminal, and she hadn't even been in the midst of it all like Eleanor was about to be… And Eleanor already had broken ribs and a broken nose. She was going to be on painkillers for a long time, clouding her mind and her actions. He had to change her mind. She couldn't be involved. It was just too dangerous. For her and for him. And for Gotham. If he was too busy worrying about Eleanor, he was going to mess up. That was already a proven fact.

_There has to be some way to change her mind… _Bruce took one of the batarangs in his fingers and spun it around, thinking. Nothing was coming to mind. _I need to take a minute to think… I should go visit Rachel in the hospital… _He finished replacing the batarangs in their holder on the belt and then sighed and sat back in the chair, running his hands back across his hair. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, Alfred was standing on the other side of the table, holding a mug of coffee, thick bellows of steam issuing over the rim.

"Something to drive the chill from your bones, sir? It certainly is cold down here this evening."

Bruce gladly accepted the beverage and took a long drink, savouring the slight burn as it slid down his throat. "Alfred… What do I do?"

"About Eleanor, Master Bruce?" As the younger man nodded, Alfred pinched his lips slightly, thinking. "I honestly do not think there is anything to be done. Ms. Black has set her mind on helping you and on getting revenge for her mother, and she's stubborn enough that she'll do it no matter what you say. Although… it might be of some use to tell her-"

"That I'm Batman?"

"That is what I was going to say, Master Bruce."

Bruce sat back, sipped his coffee and tried to run through possible situations resulting from the revealing of his secret. She would either freak out and demand to know why he didn't tell her before, get mad and never talk to him again – not like they were doing much speaking currently or anything – or faint. Or something else entirely. It was sometimes hard to predict Eleanor, but Bruce had a feeling she would get mad. Really mad. Batman was her hero, and to find out he was no one more than Bruce Wayne, the man who left her and Rachel stranded in that alley to get themselves attacked. For not the first time, his mind slid back to that situation; he should have known Eleanor would run _toward _the robbery, _toward _Batman. That was another slip up on his part.

_Eleanor doesn't need to know I'm Batman, not yet. Not with everything else she has to deal with. _

He picked up the utility belt and resumed his task of sliding everything back into place.

"Will you tell her Master Bruce?"

Bruce jumped slightly; he'd forgotten the butler was standing there. "No. Not right now, anyway… But I should talk to her. I'd have to be really heartless to not go see her parents in the hospital."

"Heartless seems to be the opinion Ms. Black has of you currently."

Ignoring the well-placed jibe, Bruce continued with the belt. When everything was back in its place, fully-stocked and working properly, Bruce returned it to its place, wiped his hands on the rag on the table and headed upstairs into the mansion proper. He had already told Rachel he'd come and visit her, and he was pretty sure Eleanor's mother had been taken to the same hospital. In the kitchen he grabbed the phone and dialed Eleanor's home number. Three rings and then the machine picked up. Not bothering to leave a message, he ended the call and dialed her cell number. Again, three rings and the message service picked up. Bruce sighed, hung up the phone and headed upstairs to change. He hadn't wanted to surprise Eleanor – not with her being mad at him, anyway – but oh well.

A few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a dark turtleneck, Bruce was sitting in the back of the car, staring at the rain-covered streets and grimacing slightly at the flurries drifting down lazily. Tonight, the roofs would probably be icy. Dangerous. The hospital was fairly quiet when he and Alfred arrived, and Bruce was thankful for that. They were upstairs in the pale hallways quickly. The nurses at the station directed Bruce and Alfred down the hall. Rachel was in a semi-private room on the second floor. There were three other people in her room, all of whom were asleep. She was awake, sitting up and staring out the window through one swollen eye and over the bandages on her nose.

She smiled as Bruce sat silently in the chair beside the bed, her eyes lighting up and bringing a healthy colour to her cheeks. "Hey," she croaked. Her brown eyes lifted to Alfred, standing behind Bruce. "Hello Alfred."

"How are you doing, Ms. Dawes?"

Rachel shrugged. "All right, all things considered, I guess… The pain is hard to handle sometimes, but I have morphine for that." She retained her smile and waved a hand at the painkiller dispersal unit sitting at her left and attached to her arm via a thick tube.

A small smile spread across Alfred's face. He nodded once. "I'll leave you two be then and head upstairs to see Mrs. Black."

Rachel waved to Alfred and then turned to Bruce. "Have _you _been to see Naomi yet?" she asked with a slight smirk cutting through her obvious exhaustion.

Bruce shook his head and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb across the back of her knuckles. "No. I was going to head up there after I saw you." His hazel eyes sharpened a bit. "How are you _really _feeling?" He admired her strength, but didn't plan on staying too long. She needed sleep. He could see that. Just a bit longer, he'd stay.

"Terrible. How else would I be feeling?" As if to emphasize her point, Rachel took a long and deep breath and settled heavily against her pillows. "And my head's still foggy… Do I seem foggy to you?"

"Not really."

"Oh. 'Cause I feel like it."

Bruce smiled a little wider, enjoying the childish aspect to Rachel's current state. "Do you know when you'll be leaving yet?" he asked, squeezing her hand.

"…No…" There was an airless quality to her voice. She was falling asleep, succumbing to the painkillers. Rachel sighed again, turning her face away from the light of the windows. "Can you close to blinds…? I'd like to sleep…" The grip she'd had on his hand fell slack and she was out before he'd voiced his agreement.

Smiling to himself, Bruce closed the blinds, watched her sleep for a minute longer and then headed out into the hallway, taking a brief second to remember the way to the elevators. The lady at the reception desk said Naomi was in a private room on the eighth floor, so once the doors slid open, Bruce pressed the eight button and listened to the quiet elevator music idly until the car dinged and the doors once more slid open, revealing walls painted a pale blue instead of the pale green several floors below. Past the nurses' station, the walls were suddenly purple and the little sign outside Naomi's room was green.

Naomi was currently sleeping, and Liam and Eleanor were chatting quietly in chairs beside the bed. A veritable cornucopia of bouquets and teddy bears was already situated on the window sill and on tables around the other wall. Bruce and Alfred silently crossed the room and took up places on a couple of other chairs already in the room. Eleanor turned a cool gaze to Bruce.

"How is she doing?" Alfred asked quietly, sensing and planning to avoid any awkwardness.

Liam sighed and rubbed his cheek, around the thick bandage. "The doctors say her surgery went well and there shouldn't be any complications or anything, but you can never be sure…" He sighed again and gazed at his sleeping wife, an unreadable look on his face. "She hasn't woken up yet."

"It's only been a few hours, dad…" Eleanor whispered in attempted reassurance; her voice sounded slightly muffled thanks to the bandages on her nose. She placed a comforting hand on her father's shoulder and squeezed. "She'll wake up. There's no reason why she shouldn't. The doctors even said so… And look at her. She looks fine." Eleanor was trying hard to comfort her father, but Bruce could tell she hardly believed what she was saying. There was a heaviness to her eyelids, even the one slightly swollen, and a slump to her shoulders that hadn't been there the night before when she had been demanding Batman let her in on the fight. Being here, in front of her wounded mother and her disheartened father, something had been lost.

He had no doubt her determination would return tenfold after this.

"If I may, Mr. Black, she looks quite well. Just tired." Alfred smiled in his most comforting way.

Liam nodded and then changed the subject to something Bruce didn't hear. Sighing to himself, he got to his feet and caught Eleanor's eye, nodding towards the hallway. She got the hint and followed him outside, leaning against the wall to support her tired body.

"How are you?" Bruce asked after a minute.

She looked up at him, her tear-filled cobalt eyes betraying the hard emotions on her face. "… I'm fine."

The silence that settled around them was thick and uncomfortable. Bruce wished he could offer her some of the comfort he seemed to have been able to give Rachel, but Eleanor's walls were raised. She was still mad and she wasn't going to let him in. He grimaced inwardly because he knew she would have let Batman in. _I should have told her earlier… _he thought absently.

"How's Rachel? I'm assuming you already saw her."

"She's fine. She was asleep when I left."

Eleanor nodded, her head turned towards the door of Naomi's room. "I haven't been to see her yet… Maybe I should go later."

"Maybe."

They fell silent again.

"Do you think she'd like to see me?"

Bruce looked across at Eleanor and found her cobalt eyes locked on him. For a minute, he didn't know how to answer that. Sure, Eleanor and Rachel had reached a place where they were more peaceful to each other, but they weren't friends. Maybe Rachel would feel better if Eleanor went to see her? It was a strange and perhaps wrong notion, but perhaps they would find comfort in each other's sorrow? Bruce shook his head and crossed the hall to stand in front of Eleanor.

"I think it might help both of you," he whispered, placing a hand on her upper arm.

She flinched from his touch at first, shrinking back towards the door of her mother's room, but then she sighed, heavy and shaking slightly with all the emotion she'd held in and leaned against his hand. Bruce slowly wrapped his arms around her and drew her in as she began to cry, all those emotions breaking through her defenses and pouring down her cheeks. Her shoulders began to shake violently, and between sobs, she whimpered with the pain it was causing her broken ribs and nose. All Bruce could do was hold her.

* * *

As soon as she was sure Bruce was gone, Rachel opened her eyes and returned to her lazy staring out the window. She had been happy to see him, that was for sure, happy to see him and his genuine smile. Happy to see the real Bruce. But the Bruce she had seen had also been a distracted Bruce.

"Eleanor…" she breathed in realization.

It was always Eleanor lately. There seemed to be some invisible force drawing them closer together, even though Eleanor was mad at him. Bruce had probably been a little worried about seeing Eleanor when she was still so angry. Rachel knew that she and Bruce would always share the bond of being childhood friends, but there was a new connection forming between the man she had always pictured herself ending up with and the woman she had hoped would never get that close.

Perhaps it was because they were so similar that Eleanor and Rachel couldn't seem to get along.

Yes, they could tolerate and be polite to each other if the situation demanded it. Helping Eleanor when she had been confined to her house hadn't been as much of a chore as Rachel had thought it was going to be. When she wasn't been bitchy and when she didn't have her walls up, Eleanor was actually quite the nice person to be around. They has spoken about Batman, and even though Rachel didn't really understand Eleanor's obsession, she had found it amusing and sort of admired Eleanor for it in a weird never-want-to-grow-up-what-ever-happened-to-my-superhero way.

Rachel settled farther into her pillows. Maybe in a different situation, her and Eleanor could have been friends. Maybe in a different situation, Bruce wouldn't have come between them.

* * *

Robert Clarke was a young, handsome and successful man who worked in advertising. He loved his job, but he hated Gotham City and had spent the last several years trying to find another job similar to what he did now in a better city. Something like Metropolis maybe? He was tired of being afraid that some masked freak was going to leap through his window and slit his throat for no better reason than because he or she wanted to. He was tired of hearing _about _those masked freaks on the news and tired of hearing about their murders and robberies and he was mostly tired of how much the city seemed to _care _about them. Giving them nicknames and naming their crime sprees and… Robert was just sick of it all and wanted to leave.

Currently, like most of his friends who shared his opinions, he was sick of hearing about the Doppelganger. From what he'd seen on the news, she was as unstable as they came and should be stopped soon. Unlike Robert however, his friends did not want to leave Gotham. They were the fabled "Loyal Gothamites" who supported Batman and his efforts to clean up the city. They thought there was a future for them in Gotham, a future for the city.

Robert was sick of Batman too.

And it was the caped crusader's failed attempts to take out the Doppelganger Robert mulled over as he hurried down the street in the dark November night. If the man had the balls to call himself a hero, then he could at least do something when the city needed him to. Why couldn't he be more like Superman? Why couldn't Gotham have received the "Last Son of Krypton" or whatever Superman was supposed to be? Why did Batman have to be so… so human? Of course, not everyone felt that way. Robert's friends were convinced Batman was something special, even if he was technically human.

"Oh yeah, a man who dresses up in a bat costume is _really _special…" Robert rolled his eyes and held his coat tighter around his thin frame as he pushed on against the winter wind heavy with the promise of precipitation of some kind. He hoped it would actually snow instead of the wet flurries and sleet he was so sick of seeing.

"You know the Batman?"

The voice hissed out of nowhere, startling Robert and causing him to drop his laptop bag. "Wh-Who said that?" he stammered, his grey eyes darting back and forth across his field of vision.

"_Do you know the Batman?!" _the voice hissed again.

"N-no, I don't!"

A green-blue hand shot out of the darkness behind an overly-large pile of garbage and closed like a vice around his neck. Robert was hoisted a couple feet into the air as the deformed figure of a woman crawled from the garbage, inhuman strength allowing her to keep him steady as she moved. Her skin was entirely the green-blue colour of her hand and her eyes seemed to have receded into her head and shrunk; the whites were completely black and her irises a nasty shade of red. Her hair still hung in a thick black mane down to her shoulder blades. One arm was taped to her chest, but through the bandages, it looked withered and useless. There was a similar drained quality to her right arm, but it still managed to hold Robert up, even though he was easily twice the woman's size. Her mouth was drawn back in a nasty snarl, revealing blood-stained teeth and Robert feared for his life. He knew who this was.

This was the Doppelganger.

"_WHERE IS THE BATMAN?!" _

"I don't know!" Robert howled desperately. "Let me go! I don't know!"

The Doppelganger didn't listen. She wanted an answer and she wasn't getting it. She tossed Robert to the ground hard enough for something to crack and send pain shooting up his back. As she advanced, Robert scuttled backwards across the concrete of the sidewalk until his back was pressed against the rough brick of a building, but she kept coming. The Doppelganger put her blue face less than an inch from Robert's and growled low in her throat as her iron fingers closed around his neck and crushed his windpipe.

His last thought was of the sparkling towers in the utopian Metropolis.

* * *

Ashlynn discarded the limp man in the trash heap and turned to growl at the small group of Gothamites who had gathered with the shouting. She had lain in the dark all day, nursing her deforming body and conversing with her addled mind, and now she wanted blood. The unsuccessful murders of Eleanor, her parents and Rachel hung on her shoulders like an invisible weight; interrupted, all of them. She wanted blood. She needed blood.

She needed a good fight.

Get the police out here.

Tear them up.

Get Batman.

Tear him up.

And then she'd finish off Rachel and Eleanor and _Bruce Wayne_, her original target who had been lost amidst the chaos.

A growl rumbled in her throat as she approached the nearest meat sack. Short. Plump. Female. Ashlynn's hand closed around her wrist as she tried to flee and yanked her backwards until her soft back collided with the Doppelganger's chest.

"You're not going anywhere," she hissed in a low voice, tightening her grip until the pop and crunch of bones and tendons satisfied her ears. As the girl let loose a strangled cry, Ashlynn threw her to the ground and drove her heel into the small of the girl's back, smiling savagely to the crowd standing around her. "What are you gonna do about it?" she snarled, twisting her foot and almost drinking in the howl. "None of you can stop me! _WHERE IS BATMAN?!"_ No one answered. No one stepped forward. They just stood there, staring dumbly at the horrific scene unfolding in front of them. _"GIVE ME THE BATMAN!"_

"Up here."

Ashlynn turned and craned her neck to look up, up to the ledge of the apartment, several feet above her. The shadows making up the Batman hovered on the edge, fiery eyes staring down at her, taunting her, mocking her…

Kill.

Ashlynn launched herself upwards just as the Batman leapt and drove himself towards the ground, legs extended and boots first. She deftly rolled out of the way and grabbed the nearest bystander to use as a shield to the punches and kicks that followed. Batman was quick enough that none of his blows hit the target. Instead, he grabbed the man and moved him so he could try to get at his target, but she moved behind yet another bystander, the sheep-like watches finally starting to realize this was _not _the place to be at the moment.

_Damn… they would have made good fun. _

_**Kill the Batman. **_

_Yes._

_**Kill Bruce Wayne.**_

_Yes. _

_**Kill all.**_

_YES. _

Shaken back into her former bloodlust by the internal commands, Ashlynn rounded on Batman and flew at him, claw-like hand extended, reached for his neck; she was confident her super-strength could pierce whatever the material of his suit was. Her fingertips had all but brushed the solid black when she found herself flying in the opposite direction, landing on her shoulder on the sidewalk, points of light dancing across her red-tinted vision and a metallic taste in her mouth. Where the blood might have deterred some, it just furthered the craving for the kill in the Doppelganger and when she next attempted to get a hold on Batman, she actually managed to close her digits around his forearm and hold on as he tried to shake her loose.

Batman brought his other first around, connected solidly with her gut. She choked on a laugh-riddled gasp of pain and leaned into his hand, trapping it the only other way she could with her demented body. Using whatever was left of her acrobatic skills and the flexibility granted by the nanomachines in her blood, Ashlynn flipped herself up onto Batman's back and wrapped her legs around his middle, holding on with nearly twice as much strength as her hand held.

She didn't even hear the sirens as they screamed up from the west.

* * *

Batman grunted as he was driven face-first into the concrete. Ashlynn's knee was sharp in the middle of his back, and the machine-given strength was enabling her to keep him pinned. As he struggled, he mentally ran through the stack of information on the NanoShift technology, trying to remember if there was some mention of a weakness created as the subject fell farther into the deformities. Nothing was jumping out at him.

He reached a hand down to his belt, searching for one of the exploding powder pellets. When he secured one, he threw it on the ground beside him and rolled to his feet as soon as Ashlynn tumbled from his back, howling in surprise and maybe a little pain from the noise; he didn't know how the nanomachines affected her hearing. She recovered quickly though and immediately took off towards the crowd of innocent people who had had the small amount of sense to back away from the fight but lacked the common sense to leave. Batman followed her as fast as he could, not wanting any more innocent people to die, to be hurt. When he felt he was close enough, he leapt forward, arms outstretched, wrapping them around her knees and bringing them both to the ground.

"Batman! Batman! She's got something in her hand! She pressed a button!"

Ashlynn's laughter cracked from her mouth as Batman rolled her over and grabbed the cell phone, keeping a firm grip on her wrist so she couldn't grab his arm with her powerful fingers. "Who did you call?" he barked.

She just laughed.

Batman looked at the boy who had informed him. "Get out of here," he said knowing the boy probably wouldn't go anywhere. He rose to his feet, hauling the seemingly incapacitated Ashlynn up by one arm as the police cruisers skidded to a stop only several feet from the pair.

Gordon got out of his car.

Ashlynn stopped laughing and twisted out of Batman's grip, her shoulder dislocating in the process, a move that seemed not to bother her at all as she again leapt out of his reach and headed towards the darkness of a nearby alley. Batman fired his grappling hook up at the roof and zipped upward, avoiding the police and following the Doppelganger's path. He dropped down in front of her in the dank alley, his cape billowing around him slightly as he fell into a crouch, absorbing the shock of his landing.

Ashlynn came to a stop in front of him.

Batman realized they weren't alone in the alley.

There was a shot.

And then pain in his arm.

Another shot. Another. Another.

He ran at Ashlynn, wrapped one arm around her and used his forward momentum to slam her into the ground in the shadows. She grabbed his cape before he could secure her again and then there were arms around him and hands all over him, clawing at his belt, his cape, his mask; shocks and howls of pain erupted as someone tried to remove the mask. Batman struggled, but the Doppelganger's hand had moved to his arm, so even if he managed to get free from what he assumed were her henchmen, he wouldn't have been able to move. He did mange to get his other arm free and knock a few of the lackeys away, but it seemed two more replaced each of them. He wished he could see behind him.

Ashlynn crawled in an impossible and crab-like fashion to her feet, retaining her grip and shoved him face-first into the ground again. "You're helpless now…" she breathed, her voice sounding almost like two separate people talking at the same time. "No one can come and save you here… In the dark… the shadows… You are mine."

"Not in the shadows," he managed as someone rolled his head from side to side against the ground.

Summoning all the strength he could, Batman rose to his knees, tossing the henchmen into the debris of the alley. Ashlynn's grip remained, but he spun sideways, driving his gauntleted fist into her face with as much force as he had. She crumpled inward and Batman advanced, raining punches and elbows and knees and kicks down on any part of her he could, desperate to reach those vital nerve points, most of which she managed to conceal. Naturally, her left side was vulnerable, so he attacked there as much as she could. Finally, she collapsed to her knees.

"In the shadows, you are _mine_."

The cracking laughter rose from her throat, more ragged, more hoarse than before. "You can not win."

The gun came from nowhere. The pain in his bicep flared, bullet recognizing bullet, flesh afraid of more wounds, but the body has to obey the mind and Batman stood his ground.

_"I WILL KILL YOU!" _she roared.

Batman lunged, knocking her arms out of the way, the gunshot echoing down the alley, moans of pain coming from one of the henchmen. She tried to bring the gun down on his head, but there were suddenly more people in the alley, the police finally have run its length and leveling their guns at Ashlynn and the lackeys. Batman was the first to see the intent in the Doppelganger's eyes.

He turned to Gordon. "Get out of here!"

Ashlynn spun, fired the semi-automatic pistol at the cops until it was empty and then ran, heedless of the gunshots following her. Batman once more ascended to the roof and ran in the same direction as the criminal, not about to let her get away again. He was her only pursuit, the police having returned to their cars to try and cut her off. They wouldn't get there in time. She was too quick, too sneaky. She would change appearances, if she still could. She would find some way to slip around the cops. It was obvious she did not care what happened to her lackeys. They were disposable.

After running for a good ten minutes, she stopped in a shadowy corner and changed. Batman dropped to the ground in front of her in the middle of the change. She was in pain. He grabbed her and where his glove contacted her skin, it started to bubble angrily, rejecting the touch. He tried to wrap his fingers around her wrist and it shrunk, her arm bending in a bizarre way to withdraw her arm from his hand. He tried to grab her again and she snapped out of the changed, half-transformed, half pale and a blonde and half green-blue and hideous.

"You will _not _get me." She yanked her arm away and drove her fingers, extended and rigid into his cheek.

Pain flared through his jaw. Batman slipped a large batarang into his fingers and threw it at her back as she ran, the metal embedding in the skin with a squelching noise he heard even before he started running to catch up.

A familiar blue car sped past him, turning sharply as Ashlynn disappeared down another alley and following the criminal into the darkness.

All Batman, all Bruce, had time to think was _shit_ before he too ran down the alley to find Eleanor beside her car, bandages blatant white in the dim alley and a shaking gun pointed at the woman responsible for wounding her parents.

* * *

**Author's Note… **Again, it's been a while, but school's a bitch.

I hope you like this chapter, because I kind of do. I hope the action scenes are OK. Like I said before, I'm a little rusty with writing action, so lemme know what you think. So NOW there's six chapters left. Apparently I can't count, since I said that last time. But there really are only six left. And then there's a sequel! But I won't be starting that one until after Christmas because I have a Christmas fic to do. (grins widely)

**Next Chapter: The Upper Hand. **More action. More drama. WOO.


	16. The Upper Hand

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Sixteen: _The Upper Hand _

* * *

Batman couldn't believe Eleanor would be so incredibly _stupid _as to come after the Doppelganger, let alone stupid enough to get out of the car and point her gun at the shape-shifter. She wasn't even wearing any protective armor or anything, but the look on her face—the fierce determination in her cobalt eyes and the thin line her lips had been pressed into—told Batman that, at that moment, Eleanor did not care; her hair whipped about in the wind, but where normally she would have brushed it from her view, she let it flap around, obscuring her vision. Eleanor was there for revenge, and she was not thinking clearly. The sight reminded Batman how he had felt after his parents had been killed, and told him how little there was to deter her from her present course.

"Eleanor!" he yelled, starting to move towards her after the initial moment of shock faded. There was no indication that she'd heard him. "_Eleanor!_ Put down the gun! Get back in the car! You're going to get yourself killed!" Henchmen jumped out of the shadows and wrapped their arms around Batman, trying to impede his approach. He shrugged them off and started running; the flailing arms reaching for him earned none of his attention.

Ashlynn turned around, about fifty feet down the road, and even at that distance, he could tell her savage eyes were glued to Eleanor, fixated on the gun in her hands, held in a teacup grip. She was standing with her feet should-width apart, but her hands were still shaking, the gun moving up and down slightly, ejecting her uncertainty and fear into the open—never a good thing when you're facing a woman capable of killing anyone for the slightest reason. The Doppelganger started to half-walk, half-limp towards Eleanor, her half-transformed body hampering her movements. There were low growls coming from her throat and her good hand was flexed, the fingers more like claws. In some places, the blue-green skin on her right side still bubbled, as if it was trying to complete the change.

"ELEANOR!" Batman roared at the top of his voice. "MOVE!"

She still didn't respond. She was watching the criminal advance, waiting until Ashlynn was close enough to shoot and kill, even if her hands were shaking and she missed the deadly target.

As Batman got closer to Eleanor, he could see tears on her face; strands of hair clung to the wet skin.

Something tightened in Bruce's chest. He knew that pain, he knew what she was feeling and that there wasn't much to take that pain away. He wanted to go to her, to try and comfort her. But he couldn't. Not now.

Ashlynn was about twenty-five feet away. Henchmen were starting to pull themselves from the debris and rubble and garbage and form a loose circle around the three of them, preparing to attack. Eleanor was completely focused on the Doppelganger, and visa versa, both oblivious to what was going on around them. Batman was trying to watch everything at once.

A few of the henchmen leapt towards Eleanor.

He tackled her to the ground.

Henchmen followed in a dark heap.

He held her close so her head wouldn't hit the ground and took most of the impact on himself so her already damaged and fragile ribs would miss most of the blow. She screamed in surprise and fired the gun, the bullet grazing Ashlynn's cheek as the shot went wide. Using his upward momentum to throw the henchmen off their backs, Batman stood up and dragged Eleanor back to her car. He shoved her into the driver's seat and closed the door, yelling for her to drive away. She didn't move. Her eyes were still fixed on the shape-shifter advancing towards the car. The Dark Knight wasted no more time yelling at the unresponsive Eleanor. He turned and tackled the criminal to the ground in an impressive long-distance lunge, ignoring the lackeys who jumped him, and began the hand-to-hand scuffle anew.

Ashlynn's arm with its claw-like fingers flailed wildly and would have been ineffective except for her augmented strength. It made each swipe feel like heavy steel shards being dragging across Batman's mask and skin, little curls of black falling from his face; he could only imagine the trenches left in the hard material of his costume. A series of well-placed nerve shots temporarily paralyzed her flailing limbs—arms and legs—and a hand on the lower half of her face kept her from headbutting him in the face or biting him, allowing him the second he needed to place the small tracking device behind her ear, just in case she got away again.

Behind him, Eleanor's car revved and there was a squeal of tires as she backed away and several dull thuds as she backed over what he hoped were some of Ashlynn's henchmen.

He turned his full attention backed to the killer trapped beneath him. She snarled and tried to bite him. He stood up, hauling her to her feet at the same time and attempted to wrench her good arm behind her back. There was a sickening pop as her shoulder dislocated from the socket and the arm fell slack. Impossibly, the limb bent backwards and up, pulling itself from Batman's grip and allowing the Doppelganger to take a few steps forward. But that was all she needed. The half of her that had transformed into the blonde woman fell away, leaving the twisted and blue-green mass of flesh making up Ashlynn's true form; the batarang sticking out of her back sunk in a little farther, squelching noises issuing from the skin.

She turned to face Batman, her lopsided mouth trying to grin deviously and her eyes completely black. "You're never going to catch me, _Batman._"

As she ran away, impossibly fast for her deformed body, a crushing weight appeared on his shoulders and the dogpile of henchmen drove him to the ground, his cheek scraping across the rough pavement; he felt the skin pull away and he knew the wound would sting in the morning. He was still, only until the henchmen stopped piling on his back. It took some force to free up his arm enough to get his grappling gun from his belt and from under the mound of flesh to fire at the nearest roof. The hook caught and with a strained whirring of the motor in the gun, he was lifted free from the pile, but he did not go up to the roof. He dropped the grappling gun—he'd get it later, when this was over—and began attacking the henchmen, expertly aimed punches and kicks disabling nerves and knocking a few unconscious and driving most to their knees. Moving like a flash of light, he slipped plastic handcuffs around the wrists of those he could and ignored those running away.

More gunshots and the smell of burning powder stinging his nostrils told Batman the police had finally caught up with them again. They were trying to take down the escaping lackeys.

But the Doppelganger, once again, was no where to be seen.

Batman wasn't sure if he could take much more of this cat and mouse game. He wanted her gone. He wanted Rachel and Eleanor and, not to mention, himself to be as safe as they could be again. This constant running was wearing on his mind—he could hardly sleep and he couldn't do anything without thinking of the Doppelganger—and his body couldn't take much more of the constant stress on his nerves and couldn't live on much longer through the lack of sleep.

This had to end tonight. It _would _end tonight.

"She's gone again?" Gordon asked, drawing Batman from his thoughts.

He nodded once with the slightest inclination of his head before pulling a handheld device from his belt. It was the same one he used to find his batarangs after a fight; he had used the same type of tracker, just changed the mounting so it could be applied to a human—or almost human—body. "But we have this," he grumbled, extended the device so Commissioner Gordon could see. The backlit screen reflected off the older man's glasses and made his eyes temporarily invisible. "I'm going after her as soon as she stops moving."

"And you're sure that's the best idea?"

Again, Batman barely nodded. "There's no point in chasing her right now."

A light seemed to click on in Gordon's eyes as he turned away from the screen. "Let her think we've given up for the night? And then attack when she least expects it?"

"Something like that."

Gordon's eyes turned back to the screen. He was silent a moment. "What was that other dot?" he asked as Batman slipped the device back onto his belt. "The one that was moving?"

"…Eleanor."

A small grin twitched at the corner of Gordon's lips. "So you're still letting her fight then?"

But Batman had already left.

* * *

The television screen had suddenly become her worst enemy.

Rachel sat in her hospital bed, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the scene being broadcast on every news station. Batman had finally caught up with the Doppelganger again. And then Eleanor had shown up, bandaged and angry and crying and looking like she'd kill the first person to look at her sideways.

And Rachel couldn't help.

It was inexplicable how her recent revelation could have altered Rachel's opinion of Eleanor Black so much, especially when she was sure Eleanor's opinions of her were still the same. But there was a strange, fragile bond of friendship between them, based completely on the tragedy and stress they had shared over the last little while. And seeing Eleanor out there, alone and struggling to keep her composure, hurt Rachel. She wanted to help her, wanted to lend whatever support she could.

Even when Eleanor had come in to say hi and see how she was doing, Rachel wished she could have taken some of the other woman's burden, of her pain.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with me?" Rachel asked herself. "I was up walking this morning. I've got to help."

She pushed herself off the hospital bed, but as soon as she put weight on her feet, she collapsed, her breath rushing from her lungs and pain coursing through her body, filling the space left from the pain. Rachel choked on sudden tears and fell forward, the cool linoleum easing the ache in her bruised cheek. She was oblivious to the nurses helping her back into bed as she cried, wishing she could do something valiant to help Eleanor, to help herself and to help Gotham.

* * *

Liam was glad there was no TV in his wife's room. He sat in the waiting room, staring at the image of his daughter's car driving through the cops. She was a fool—she was going to get herself killed! Naomi didn't need to see this. It would send her into such a flurry of emotion that she was bound to rupture something or faint or… or something else equally as bad or worse. Naomi did not need stress right now, and seeing Eleanor, seeing their only little girl in the middle of a police brawl, knowing she was down there fighting for her mother, endangering herself for her mother would just be too much.

Liam was _very _glad there wasn't a TV in his wife's room. Very, very glad indeed.

But saving his wife from the pain of knowing Eleanor was putting herself in actual mortal danger didn't help him deal with it any better.

He sat in the waiting room and stared at the TV, tears stinging his blue-green eyes and sliding unnoticed down his cheeks as he prayed to God that Batman would save his daughter one more time.

* * *

"What the hell does she think she's doing?!"

Shauna leapt across the desk and wrapped her arms around Adam, pulling him back down the floor. "Stop trying to attack the TV, or we'll never see!"

"Would you two please be quiet?"

The energetic engineers looked up at Lucius Fox, his brow creased in worry and in thought and fell silent. Their boss' brown eyes were all but glued to the LCD screen as he watched the images flick by and as he listened to the words of the reporter.

_"We're not sure who was driving the car, but since he or she is run down several of the henchmen, it's safe to assume he or she is helping Batman. They're moving farther into the alley, out of camera range, but we'll keep you updated the best we can._"

"What is she thinking?" Lucius asked no one in particular as she settled back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully across his chest. His brow was still knit together in the middle of his forehead and the white in his hair glowed in the dim, bluish light from the computer, making him look much, much older than he was. "She's going to get herself seriously injured if not killed. He might not be able to save her this time…"

"Mr. Fox?"

He snapped out of his concentrated state and looked at Shauna and Adam, sitting on the floor; he felt like he was looking down at two little kids. "What is it, Shauna?"

"You're hoping Batman will help her too, right?"

"I'm hoping Batman will once again save us all."

"Eleanor's a fucking idiot," Adam snarled.

* * *

Ashlynn dragged herself up a broken staircase and pressed herself into the first corner she could find that wasn't already occupied by garbage or rodents or anything else. She had no idea where she was. Hell, she couldn't even think straight.

Batman.

Bruce Wayne.

Eleanor.

Rachel.

Bruce.

Eleanor.

Batman.

KILL.

KILL.

**KILL. **

She brought her head between her hands and knees and rocked back and forth, tears stinging her face like acid and blue-green flesh bubbling like so much toxic waste. There was a fog in her vision. She was going blind. There was constant pain in all her bones. She'd tried shifting form and it hadn't worked, only caused more pain. She's tried not doing anything. That caused pain too. There nothing she could do to escape the pain, the need to kill. Nothing she could do to escape what her all-consuming hatred and thirst for revenge had turned into: the need to kill, to take life, to have blood on her hands.

She needed someone to help her. Some part of her mind told her that. The last little bit of Ashlynn Chiang was calling out for a helping hand, was calling out for the only person who had even understood, the only person who'd ever cared if she was all right. The only person who had cautioned her against this foolish, foolish plan.

Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam.

Ashlynn called.

Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam.

The only person who could help her was dead and gone; dead by her own hands.

The thing that had once been Ashlynn screamed as the last rational piece of her mind broke. There was nothing left, but a burning pain and the devouring need to kill someone. To kill Batman and Bruce Wayne and Eleanor and Rachel. To kill them all. She had to give into the temptation. There was no stopping the Doppelganger now, not that the last bit on conscience and feeling was gone.

The thing that had once been Ashlynn laughed.

She laughed as her bones snapped and cracked and shifted and made her even less human.

She laughed as she lost everything.

* * *

Eleanor had never experienced tunnel vision before.

And she never wanted to again. At least, that's what the part of her mind still capable of rational thought was saying.

She was literally speeding towards Wayne Enterprises, her phone pressed tightly between her ear and her shoulder and her eyes focused only on the road in front of her. Shauna's voice was high and strained in the phone and Adam was screaming profanities in the background while loud noises could be heard. He was moving things, looking for what he needed to fulfill Eleanor's sudden request. It would have bee impossible if they hadn't worked at Wayne Enterprises.

_"Are you sure this is a good idea, Ellie? What if you get hurt again? Your ribs are already broken and you've been through so much. Maybe you should just let Batman handle it." _

"I'm not arguing this Shauna. I'm going after her and he's going to help me."

_"What makes you so sure?" _

"I just have a hunch."

_"YOU'RE BASING THESE RETARDED ACTIONS ON A HUNCH?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?!" _

"Please tell me you don't have me on speaker phone, Shauna."

_"Sorry Ellie, but I need to search the computer to find everything you'll need and I type must better and much better with two hands free." _She paused and Eleanor could hear the faint clicking of the keyboard's keys. _"Adam will get over it soon. He's just worried about you." _

"I don't need worry right now. I need protection and I _know_ it's down there."

Eleanor hung up the phone. Something she'd never done before without saying goodbye or properly ending the conversation. She hated it when people did that to her, but at the moment, tunnel vision and all, she was concentrated only on getting the Doppelganger. She needed to get a hold of Batman and convince him to take her. If she was lucky, he would talk to Gordon and then the police commissioner would contact her and all she would have to do is say "Yes, I'm coming" and be done with it; her hand slid into her coat pocket as she drove, fingers slowly sliding across the still-sharp edges of the batarang.

Wayne Tower came into view and Eleanor raced into the first available parking spot she found close to the elevators. The building was almost completely empty and very dark. It was eerie and Eleanor noticed more and more shadows as the tunnel vision faded and the reality of what she wanted to do settled in. The most frightening part of wanting to run after a murderer in Gotham City was that Eleanor didn't care what happened to her. Even though, logically, even if she did get revenge for what Ashlynn had done to her parents, but she got hurt in the process, wouldn't Liam and Naomi be even more hurt? Yes they would. But Eleanor was more concerned with getting the revenge at that moment, regardless of future consequences or present and future injuries. And she wasn't really in the mood to have Shauna and Adam berate her choices right then.

But, as she stepped off the elevator into the familiar concrete room which used to be Applied Sciences, Eleanor discovered her engineer friends weren't the only ones she had to worry about.

Lucius Fox, his brown eyes as hard and disapproving as Eleanor had ever seen them, stood beside Shauna with his hands in his pockets and staring at her like he could convey everything he should have said in one look. He made Eleanor feel like a child. It was a talent only he and Alfred the butler possessed.

"The Commissioner called," he said in his calm and smooth voice.

Eleanor couldn't help herself from being a little excited. "And?"

Lucius indicated what she could only assume was a bullet-proof vest lying on the desk beside him. "Get ready."

To her credit, Eleanor didn't smile, but she felt smug enough too as she picked up the heavy garment. It didn't look like the vests she'd seen the police wearing. It wasn't thick or that strange shade of blue-gray. The vest was black with weird silvery patterns in some sections, and almost form-fitting it was so slim; at its thickest point, it was still under an inch thick. It was fastened with Velcro at several points, as well as with thin belts. The vest was also longer, falling to her hips instead of her waist, and, as Adam helped her into it, Eleanor realized it was much more comfortable and flexible than she would have guessed it to be.

She raised a curious eyebrow to Lucius.

"Batsuit," was all he said.

Eleanor didn't have time to respond. Adam shoved a belt at her with what she recognized as spare clips of ammo dangling from it. As she buckled it around her thigh—it was clearly too small to go around her waist or hips or anything—she noticed Adam's look.

"How does that feel?" he asked before she could say anything.

"Weird, but I'll get used to it. Now wh—"

"It's not too heavy? It won't hamper your running? I'm guessing you're going to be doing lots of that."

"No. I should be fine. Wh—"

"And you're sure you're OK to use the gun?" Shauna asked, piping up from her spot at her desk and helping Adam stall Eleanor's questions.

"I'll be OK. I have to do this. I'll make myself do this. I have to."

"You don't have to do anything Eleanor," Adam nearly hissed. "You're going to get hurt."

"B—"

"And don't say Batman won't let you because you don't know that. You don't know what his priorities are." Adam stepped closed to Eleanor, so that their noses were almost touching. "And you don't seem to care what happens to you anyway."

"Adam, leave it be." Shauna's voice was quiet than usual, with a dark undertone. "Nothing you say is going to change her mind."

Adam looked from Eleanor to Shauna to Eleanor and then she looked at the floor. "It should." He turned and walked towards the small lounge he and Shauna had built to make their place of frequented residence more homey and comfortable.

Eleanor stared after him, her chest tightening with the pain she knew she was causing him and Shauna, and for a second, a brief second, she doubted her decision to fight. It passed like a shadow and she turned back to Lucius, who seemed the most capable of hiding his emotions, and that's what she needed right then. Someone who wasn't going to dispute her, who wasn't going to yell or try and make her feel bad; not that he would need to say anything to accomplish that since the look of disappointment in his eyes was enough. Eleanor ignored that.

"Anything else?" she asked, startled to hear her voice cracking slightly.

"Not unless you want a helmet."

Eleanor nodded and started combing her red-brown hair back from her face with her fingers. When she was sure all of it was up, she pulled the hair elastic off her wrist and secured the ponytail in place; layered strands fell right back into her face. "I'm going up to the roof." And she started walking without even so much as a look over her shoulder. She didn't want them to see the tears in her eyes.

She cried herself out in the elevator.

The air on the roof was chilly, crisp and far too warm to be almost the middle of winter. Eleanor dimly remembered something about unseasonal winter thunderstorms or something supposed to be heading towards Gotham. She stood on the lowest roof level of Wayne Enterprises, wearing a rather light jacket, and stared out at the darkness tinted with the orange of street lights; it was almost normally dark where she was standing, black tinted with blue, the way it should be.

A whisper of noise behind her brought her head around, her broken nose, forgotten up until that point, protested; luckily, it wasn't that bad of a break, or she would have had to wear more than just the tape and it would have been difficult to see anything. She jumped when she found him, startled by his characteristically sudden appearance. Batman stood behind her, in the shadow of the building, cape flapping lightly in the breeze. The part of his face that was exposed was only slightly visible in the darkness. He actually looked frightening standing there, like some living gargoyle.

"You shouldn't be fighting," he said. Some living gargoyle that cared for her safety apparently.

Eleanor nodded. "I know."

"When was the last time you took painkillers?"

She looked down at her watch. "Almost seven hours ago. I don't feel the effects of them at all."

He nodded and, with the smallest of motions, gestured her forward. "Hold on," he said.

Eleanor only had time to wrap her arms around his neck before they were descending to the ground, too many storeys below to count. When her feet, clad in functional boots, touched the ground, she realized they were behind the parking garage. Beside her, the Batmobile, the Tumble, roared to life, the hatch wide open and Batman already in the driver's seat. She swung into the empty seat, her ribs screaming and forcing a wince out onto her face.

If Batman noticed, he didn't say anything. "Are you scared?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Good."

"That won't stop me."

"I know."

Painkillers be damned, scared or not, Eleanor was going to fight.

* * *

**Author's Note… **Man, do I need to get better at updating quicker. This time though, I had exams to study for, so I have a reasonable excuse. (cheesy grin) Anyways, I hope you like this chapter, and the story should be finished soon because I have time now—Christmas break, woo!—and after classes start again, it won't be as hectic as it was at the end of term, so I'll be able to work on my fanfiction. I hope this one makes sense. It does to me, but that doesn't mean it translated to the page well. Anyways, enjoy the chapter and Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!

Four chapters left. Man… I REALLY can't count… (shakes head and walks away)

**Next Chapter: Cat and Mouse. **Some chasing. Some guns. Some fighting. DRAMA ACTION VIOLENCE WOO! That is all.


	17. Cat and Mouse

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Seventeen: _Cat and Mouse_

* * *

The streets of Gotham were oddly quiet as the Tumbler roared across the pavement towards some destination she wasn't sure of. The streetlights flashed through the tinted windows but did not disturb Eleanor's thoughts as she stared unblinkingly out the front window. There was a fine shaking over her whole body, like she was shivering, but she wasn't cold; it was impossible to be cold in the unseasonable warmth with the threat of thunderstorms looming in the lightning on the horizon. Neither Eleanor nor Batman had said anything since they'd left Wayne Tower, Batman content to stare at the road and the several screens projecting information only he understood and Eleanor not exactly content but focused on her faraway thoughts.

She wasn't really sure what to think at this point. Before, when her emotions had been driving her actions, her path seemed so clear, so obvious and so doable. But now… now as the rational thoughts started clawing their way to the front, Eleanor was realizing just how afraid she was. The slight shaking escalated rapidly into a visible vibration, her teeth chattering quietly and tears rising in her eyes. They didn't spill down her cheeks, but her eyes began to burn with the effort to keep that from happening. She clenched her jaw to silence her teeth and glared harder at the world outside the press-dubbed Batmobile. The muscles at the back of her cheeks started to ache and she relaxed her jaw, a small noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob escaped her mouth. She shut it tightly again and leaned against the side of the Tumbler, ignoring as some screw or something pressed painfully into her skin near her temple.

Beside her, Batman's attention broke from the monitors for the briefest moment and flicked to Eleanor. He wanted to comfort her, but at that moment, he wasn't exactly sure how to go about it. So his focus went back on the main monitor, where a lime green dot flashed as it moved across a map of Gotham and showed the Doppelganger's location. She was heading away from the main part of Gotham, towards the Narrows. That was good. It meant there would be less chance of innocents getting hurt. Again, Batman's attention fell away from the screens and landed on the gun holstered around Eleanor's thigh. She didn't like or really know how to use the weapon. That worried him. But there was a determination in her which impressed him. He could see and feel and almost touch her fear, but she wasn't complaining or backing out. Against his and her friends' advice, and against what he hoped was her better judgment, Eleanor had forced herself into this. And, apparently, she was going to see the end of it. Something had appeared in her recently that reminded Batman of himself.

The first drops of rain splattered against the narrow windshield, bringing both passengers out of their respective reveries.

"You can get out and go home, Eleanor."

"Stop trying to make me back out," she said. Her voice was quiet but strong, but the confidence didn't reach her eyes, still drowning in unshed tears. "I'm going to do this." Now her voice was almost a whisper. "I have to."

"You don't. I know you think you do. I know you feel responsible for what happened to your parents, and I know you feel like it's your job to set things right, but it's not."

"How do you know?" she snapped. Her eyes were shimmering violently know, anger working its way into her already full array of emotions. "How the hell do you know what I'm feeling right now? How do you understand what I'm going through? I have to do this and nothing you say is going to change my mind."

There was a moment of silence as Batman maneuvered the Tumbler around a sharp corner. "I just know, Eleanor," he said, something falling out of his voice. Her head snapped around to stare at him, the beginnings of recognition on her face. Quick to recover, Batman forced the growl back in full force and said: "And I know there probably isn't anything I could say to change your mind, but I have to try." He turned his eyes back on the road. "The police and I will put the Doppelganger behind bars. She won't hurt you or your family again, Eleanor. You don't have to put yourself in danger," he added after a minute, some of the growl dropping from his voice.

The woman had stopped shaking, seemingly having found warmth in her arms wrapped around herself. Either that or she had found some comfort in the vulnerability Batman had just exposed. Eleanor was silent for a second, chewing on her lip as she puzzled over what to say next. "I don't want to, Batman. I don't want to put myself in danger. I know what would happen to my parents if something happened to me, and I know that no one would forgive me because if I die it'll be my fault. I need to do this." Her voice dropped to a level reserved to keep her from breaking into the hysterical sobs hovering on the edge. "When I found my parents lying there in their own blood… I felt so incredibly useless. There was nothing I could do to help them… They were lying there in pain and all I could do was stare. I could hardly keep myself from dying. If Gordon hadn't shown up when he did, she would have killed me. I need to do this not only for revenge but to make myself feel like I'm not completely useless." She pulled her lip back between her teeth and chewed: a nervous habit like twirling the ring on her thumb; the ring was safely tucked in her pocket as it irritated her skin when something, like the grip of the gun, was pressed against it.

Batman opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but the abrupt end to the motion on the screen caught his attention. Ashlynn had stopped moving. They drove a little longer, getting a close to her location as he dared. He swung the Batmobile into an alley that looked far too small for the massive black thing, and parked in the thickest of the shadows at the back of the dead end. The roof opened above them and Batman jumped out with practiced grace and after a minute of struggling with the complicated buckles holding her in, Eleanor took his offered hand, climbed out of the Batmobile and wrapped her arms around his neck, shutting her eyes as they grappled to the nearby rooftop. The air stung her face, driving a few of the tears from her eyes.

"Where is she?" Eleanor asked, eager to change the subject from what they had been discussing in the Tumbler as she carefully followed Batman across the pebbly roof. She wiped at her eyes, trying to stop her watering eyes.

"She's moving around the third floor from the top of that taller building over there." Batman pointed with the handheld device currently mimicking the screen from the car, lime-green locator dot and all. "We're going to drop down, go in through the window. Gordon and the police are on their way." There was no further explanation. Not that Eleanor needed any. She had a phone identical to the one the Caped Crusader used to contact the Commissioner.

When they had crossed the roof, he leapt the gap of about three feet and turned. Eleanor took a bit of a running start and stumbled when she landed on the other roof. Batman grabbed her arm to steady her and then crossed the roof swiftly, not bothering to gesture for Eleanor to follow. She was right on his heels. When he stopped again, Eleanor stood behind him, hand hovering around her thigh and the gun, vibrating more than shaking, but her jaw was set and there was no fear left on her face. Either she had replaced it with something else or she was hiding it better than before. Without being told, she wrapped her arms around Batman's neck as he raised one arm and shot the grappling hook up. His other arm slid around her waist and held her pressed against his chest as they rose quickly through the air. She shut her eyes again. As they climbed onto the roof of the tall tenement, Eleanor was glad she had had the foresight to wear her only article of clothing made of leather: a short jacket with thicker pads at the shoulders and elbows. She was pretty sure it had been made to wear on a motorcycle, but she had picked it up in a second-hand store because she thought it looked cool, so she couldn't be sure. Whatever its original intended use, the jacket was keeping the biting wind from reaching Eleanor's upper body and she was glad for it. The unseasonable warmth was not reaching that particular rooftop very well.

Batman was looking at the handheld device again, the grappling hook safely tucked back on his utility belt. When he felt Eleanor's eyes on him, he looked up and the moved the device so she could see it too. "She's staying on the west half of the floor."

Eleanor nodded and flexed her hands. She looked at Batman and for a second, there was something familiar in his dark eyes. There was something tugging at the back of her mind, but she ignored it and instead focused on the hard knot of excitement forming low in her gut. This was it. They were going in after the Doppelganger. Eleanor was about to get what she thought she wanted. She let the adrenaline flow through her body and followed Batman across the roof.

* * *

Confined and alone, Ashlynn paced, body twisted and deformed and wrestled with the two halves of her mind, trying to figure out what to do next. The tiny bit of Ashlynn knew there had to be something left around here from when this had been her headquarters, and the majority of her mind, the Doppelganger, riddled by the nanomachines and fueled by anger and raw power only wanted death. She didn't care how she got it.

_Kill them all. Kill them all. Kill them all._

"Not helping, not helping, not helping." Ashlynn held her head as she paced in her limping gait. For the moment, however brief it was destined to be, the woman was in control and she was looking for a way to end this quickly. Her disturbing eyes rolled around her head as she looked around the small apartment. There were empty crates, boxes and bags littering the living room, kitchen and bathroom, paper and plastic debris blowing around thanks to the small breeze blowing in the broken glass of the windows. "Not helping, not helping, not helping…" Ashlynn looked towards the bedroom as thunder rumbled in the distance.

The place was completely empty save the crazy woman. All her henchmen were either in police custody or abandoned when she ran, and since she had killed Sam, there was no on around to help her or to talk her down. She was lost and searching for a quick end to this all. Ashlynn, the woman, wanted out of her head, but she was losing her mind. Hell, it was lost, and she hadn't even come close to getting what she wanted. She hadn't even come close to her goal and she'd hurt so many people. Now, she just wanted it all to end.

But the Doppelganger wasn't having any of that.

_You must kill. Kill. Kill. _

"I know, I know, I know." Ashlynn stopped her walking as her eyes fell on the door to the only bedroom in the small apartment. "Maybe… Maybe… Maybe…" She limped into the miniscule bedroom and all but collapsed on the floor, her left arm flailing under the bed, claw-like fingers searching for the small black bag she'd stuffed under there so long ago, in case of emergencies. And this qualified as an emergency. As her fingertips touched the rough material she was looking for, the Doppelganger flared like a white-hot light in her hair.

_Yes. Yes. Yes. Kill them. Destroy them. Watch them die. Yes. Yes. Yes. _

Ashlynn pulled the bag towards her and cradled it to her chest, stroking it like someone would pet a cat or some other beloved pet. "Yes, yes, yes," she whispered, closing her eyes and letting the Doppelganger flood into the tiny part of her mind that had still been hers. There was no point in fighting any more really. "You will save me… This will work… _Kill Bruce Wayne. Kill the Batman. Kill them all_."

A small noise reached her ears and she sat up straight, still cradling the small bag to her chest. Her fingers flexed into the bag before she tucked it between her useless right arm and chest, tightening the bandages so the package wouldn't move. She readjusted her shirt, but the bulge wouldn't have drawn extra attention since the rest of her body had shifted and become lumpy and was most definitely unnatural looking. The Doppelganger pushed herself to her feet and limped back into the living room where she turned and faced the windows. The low-hanging storm clouds reflected the orange light of the city and created an almost oppressive environment.

The window directly in front of her shattered. Glass shards pelted her skin, a few shallow slices opening on her cheeks and neck, her sweater not doing much to protect the areas it covered; odd-coloured blood dripped slowly down her face. The Doppelganger ignored it, her eyes narrowed on the dark figures still in their landing crouches on the floor. Batman and Eleanor. She knew them right away. There was a black gun in Eleanor's hand and three small batarangs between Batman's fingers.

The Doppelganger took the time to notice those facts—about two seconds—and then she ran, barreling through the thin front door of her apartment and throwing herself down the stairs, the building too old and too cheap to have an elevator. She took the steps in leaps, clearing each flight in about two bounds and hitting each landing with a resounding thud. On one landing, her booted foot sunk through the decaying wood, and instead of pulling herself out like most, the criminal ripped a bigger hole in the floor and fell onto the landing below, the awkward way she landed bending her ankles in ways that should have broken them, and the impact knocking the wind from her lungs and forcing her to stop for the briefest of seconds to gather herself together. Above her, she could hear the footsteps of Eleanor and Batman and a faint whirring indicative of one of the latter's devices.

"This is taking too long," she snarled, glaring at the steps.

The wanted woman leapt over the railing and, confident in her enhanced body, plummeted a few flights before grabbing one of the metal railings and flinging herself back onto the wooden stairs. She threw herself through a locked door of an apartment and disrupted a family watching television as she vaulted out a window and hit the roof next door in a summersault. As she regained her feet, The Doppelganger put on a burst of speed and tore across the paved roof, her good hand lying atop the package tucked against her chest.

* * *

The rain had soaked Eleanor, plastering her hair and clothes to her skin and the excess was running down her body in rivulets, between her shoulder blades and down her scalp along her neck, but she ignored the potentially distracting liquid. She kept her eyes on The Doppelganger far ahead of them, the Dark Knight in her periphery and the gun held in her right hand so tightly her fingers were starting to stiffen. Once they had started running, all the fear and anxiety she'd been feeling, however secretly, and all the pain from her ribs and her nose, had given away to pure adrenaline and now her mind was completely clear. Somewhere in the back of her head, Eleanor knew her legs should be burning and her breaths should be coming in ragged gasps, but she was calm, breaths even and muscles not sore. She felt as if she could run forever. And she would if that's what it took to catch the deformed criminal.

Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance and lightening flashed several seconds after, illuminating what lay ahead of Eleanor and burning the image on the back of her eyelids like a photograph in inverted colours; the Doppelganger in mid-air and three of Batman's batarangs suspended behind her. As the criminal made another impossible leap that forced her pursuers to leap to a balcony and then scramble up the fire escape, or glide across the space as the case may be, the bat-shaped weapons embedded themselves in her back. She shrieked, but the pain didn't hamper her movement as she kept up the breakneck speed across the rooftops.

"We're never going to catch her like this," Eleanor breathed as she scrambled onto the roof and caught up to a stopped Batman. He looked down at her and something in his face made her realize he hadn't been going as fast as he could because of her. After she got over the shock of that realization, her face fell into a glare that, under any other circumstances, would have impressed Batman, a glare-master in his own right. "Well don't let her get away on my account! Go! I'll catch up!" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Batman took off almost twice as fast as Eleanor ran and gained all the ground they'd lost standing still. She didn't really think she'd catch up unless something stopped them first. "Damn it, I wish I could just shoot her." Eleanor started running again, a faint burning appearing in her thighs. She ignored it and followed the dark and strangely liquid shape of Batman ahead of her.

She knew, short of protecting herself or Batman, there was no way she'd shoot the Doppelganger. For one, she believed in Batman's philosophy of justice without killing anyone and two, she didn't think she'd ever recover from shooting someone, even if it was in self-defense. The gun still scared her, no matter how necessary it was to have some form of protection in the current situation. As she ran, Eleanor decided it would be a good idea to take some self-defense courses after this was all over. If she made it through this.

Eleanor huffed as she ran and forced herself to focus only on the shapes far ahead of her and the adrenaline started pumping through her veins again. Unlike when she had been attacked in her parent's living room, the thumping of her blood in her ears didn't distract her. She found she could use the sound to keep herself focused, to keep herself from freaking out; it was like her personal rhythm.

_Thump, thump, thump._

_Run, run, run._

Batman disappeared over a roof ledge, and when Eleanor finally caught up, she realized the pursuit had moved to the ground. The Doppelganger was struggling to climb a fence while Batman struggled to pull her back down to the ground. Eleanor took only a second to judge the distance to the fire escape beneath her and then jumped, bending her knees like she'd been taught to absorb the impact and keep her lower appendages all intact. The building was short enough that she only had to run down a couple flights of stairs before she could take the faster route via ladder down to the rain-soaked ground. Even so, by the time she reached the ground, the Doppelganger and the Batman were already far ahead. But Batman had caught up with her once. There was still a chance.

"_You will never be able to stop me!" _

Eleanor's head snapped up as the Doppelganger's voice screeched through the night, roaring above the rain and the rushing water. Water? They must have reached the docks. About thirty feet ahead of her, the preternatural criminal had been stopped in her tracks by Batman, who had managed to get a chain or something around her arms and neck and was holding her in place. Eleanor slowed to a jog and approached the pair, not wanting to be in the way if something went wrong or impeded her hero from further restraining the deformed woman.

"You got her?" she yelled, forcing her voice over the noise of running water.

Thunder sounded again, louder this time and lightening flashed, the gap between the two natural occurrences much shorter than before. The storm was getting closer. Luckily, Batman just nodded, so no words were lost. He shot her a look that stopped her in her tracks when she got close enough.

Now five feet away, Eleanor took up a fairly stable stance and leveled the gun at the thing that used to be Ashlynn as Batman tried to wrestle the smaller woman into a position so he could wrap the heavy chain around the remainder of her body. The metal seemed to be the only thing so far able to contain her.

The vibrating phone in her pocket made Eleanor jump. She kept her gun pointed at the Doppelganger.

Bully for her.

Shifting the gun to a more awkward one-handed grip, she fished the phone out of her pocket and pressed it to her ear. There was only one person who had the number to that particular phone. "We're down by the harbor in the Narrows, Commissioner," Eleanor said. "Batman's got her held down with chains right now, but that's all that's really holding her. We could use some help."

_"We're on our way. Just try to keep her there." _There was a brief pause. _"You're all right?" _

"I'm fine." And then she closed the phone, shoved it back into her jeans pocket and wrapped her hand back around the gun. She focused back on the Doppelganger and Batman and let her face fall into another glare. "The police are coming," she said, not really sure who she was informing or threatening.

Batman nodded, but the Doppelganger just smiled a hideous grin. "The police can't stop me either," she hissed. "No one can stop me. I'm going to kill you both and then I'm going to kill Bruce Wayne." The last few words dissolved into high-pitched short bursts of laughter reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard or silverware scrapping against a dinner plate. Her red and black eyes leaked a grayish liquid that probably should have been tears, and her body spasmed sporadically in Batman's grasp. "_No one can stop me!" _

The shriek seemed to give her a burst of strength as she threw her leg backwards in a sharp kick to Batman's knee. At the last second, she changed the move and hooked her toes behind the joint and pulled him forward, moving out of the way just in time. Eleanor squeezed the trigger, the bullet grazing the Doppelganger's arm, but the monster didn't even react. She just turned and run, the chains falling to the ground behind her, leaving a strange trail. As Batman got to his feet, Eleanor followed the impulse in her head and sprinted after the woman, planning on tackling her to the ground. Her arms encircled the rough and bubbly flesh of the Doppelganger, but instead of the pair hitting slick pavement or concrete or any other hard material Eleanor expected, they plunged into the icy waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Her muscles seized in the sudden cold and the salt stung her eyes, but she didn't dare let go of the flailing woman or the gun. She held on as if for her life and tried to ignore the pain in her arms as the criminal pulled and the pain in her legs as she was kicked. But one expert hit to the side of the head with a flailing fist and Eleanor's limbs locked, allowing the Doppelganger to swim away. As her senses came back in a rush, Eleanor realized she was having a hard time keeping herself afloat as her clothes took on more and more water.

Her head went under once before a strong arm encircled her middle and pulled her back to the surface and started hauling her through the icy waves. Eleanor's legs returned to her and she started kicking. Batman's arm slipped away, but he was a hovering black shape, ready to catch her if her body failed her.

"Avoid going into the water in the winter if you can," Batman said as he helped her back onto the dock. She remained sitting as he pulled the handheld device off his belt. Everything on that belt had to have been waterproof, or it would all be ruined thanks to her not-so-thought out move. "She's swimming in a large arch, back towards the shore. She should come aground a few miles from here." He replaced the device and pulled out his phone and pressed the button which connected him directly to Gordon.

And then Eleanor lost the conversation as the Caped Crusader walked a little ways away. There wasn't much feeling to her body as she sat there, the rain pelting against her; it was falling in sheets now, the storm almost directly above them. What had she been thinking? Why was she even here? All her determination was fading with the warmth as the cold seemed to chase everything good from her body. Her muscles locked up in the void left by the sudden disappearance of the adrenaline and she just sat there, not even shivering or shaking or anything. Eleanor wasn't even completely aware when Batman returned, but somehow, she ended back on her feet, her hand in his and running back in the direction of the Batmobile.

"What about Ashlynn?" she asked, voice much more there than she would have thought.

"Gordon and his men are closer to her than we are right now. They're going to set up a perimeter and try to keep her in the warehouse until we get there. Fox had Adam and Shauna develop a more potent knock-out gas for the police to use." The Tumbler's roof slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Apparently they'd been closer to the tank-like vehicle than Eleanor would have guessed. "Here," Batman said after Eleanor had climbed in. He tossed her a blanket which she wrapped around herself before buckling the complicated seat belt again.

* * *

James Gordon watched the purplish smoke leak out the windows of the factory and immediately be driven to the ground by the rain. His arms were getting tired with the effort of holding the shotgun aloft, but he didn't feel comfortable enough with the situation to let it down again. To his left, Renee Montoya and her partner Crispus Allen stood with their guns aimed as well and surrounding the three of them were blue and red lights flashing silently and cops with guns and Kevlar standing still as statues.

The Doppelganger had seemed out of it as they'd chased her into the building. If it was because of the cold water soaking her body, the batarangs embedded in her back or the extent of the deformities, Gordon wasn't sure, but he couldn't say he wasn't glad. She finally seemed to be worn down. Maybe they could finish this tonight. He hoped they could finish this tonight. He was sick of chasing her, of not being able to predict what she was going to do next. He didn't want to see Eleanor or Rachel hurt anymore and he most definitely didn't want to see anyone else get hurt.

"Commissioner, are we cleared to go in?"

Gordon narrowed his eyes, focusing on the heavily armored men in and around the building. One of them looked back and waved them forward with what looked like two fingers. "We're not going in yet, Montoya. Tighten the perimeter. They're saying she's unconscious, but we don't want to take any unnecessary risks right now."

"We're not going in until Batman gets her, are we Commish." It wasn't a question.

Gordon didn't say anything.

* * *

Across town, sitting in her hospital bed wrapped in blankets against a chill that had nothing to do with the rain and wind outside. She was watching the news, watching the coverage of the warehouse where the police, with the help of Batman and undoubtedly Eleanor, had cornered the Doppelganger and, implementing some new technology from Wayne Enterprises, had knocked her out. This could be the end of the whole debacle, and if it was, Rachel would be safe when she left the hospital. Well, as safe as the assistant district attorney ever was in this city.

Rachel picked up the bedside phone and dialed the number for Wayne Manor, hoping to get a hold of Bruce. She had to talk to him, to know what he was thinking and to know if he was seeing this. Eleanor was out there risking her life and even Rachel was worried about her. After a few rings, Alfred picked up. "Hello Alfred, it's Rachel. Is Bruce there?"

_"I'm afraid he's not Miss Dawes," _the butler said, something in his voice worrying the young woman. _"Would you like me to deliver a message?" _

"No, I was just wondering if he was watching the news."

_"Wherever he is, I'm almost positive he's seeing the news. As foolish as her decision may be, Miss Black is out there and in very great danger, and he is incredibly worried about her. I do not think he would miss this." _There was a pause and the butler let out a small sigh. _"How are you Miss Dawes?" _

"Almost completely recovered." Rachel sighed a pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her forefinger. "How could she be out there, Alfred?"

_"You'll find people will do a great many unexpected things when they or their families are threatened." _

"You sound like you know what you're talking about Alfred."

_"Unfortunately I do, Miss Dawes."_

As she said goodbye and hung up the phone, Rachel wondered what Alfred could have been talking about, because it didn't sound like he was referring to Bruce's playboy antics. She turned her eyes back to the television as watched it all unfold.

* * *

Eleanor and Batman arrived just as the Doppelganger's enhanced metabolism finished eating through the knock-out gas. She had wedged herself into a small space behind some heavy crates not even she could move, so her pursuers were able to keep her pinned and Eleanor was able to keep her gun trained on the criminal. Behind the young woman and the masked vigilante the police fanned out, Gordon, Montoya and Allen directly behind them, guns also pointed at the target. The Doppelganger screeched and flailed against her self-made prison, writhing in the pool of water and blood on the concrete beneath her. Drops shot out the small hole, splattering over Eleanor's face and arms. She didn't flinch, just stared blankly ahead, down the line created by her arm and the gun. But, as unflinching as she was in her posture and the set of her mouth, the fear she was now letting herself feel was plain in her eyes, shimmering with the effort of keeping the tears inside. Eleanor knew she had to finish this. She had gotten herself involved and she wasn't going to back out.

Doppelganger's flailing stopped suddenly and she stared upwards. Her chest was rising rapidly, the motion emphasized by the lump of her arm taped across it. Beside Eleanor, Batman looked up.

"Why wasn't that window secured?" he growled.

"What?" Eleanor looked upwards too, at the same time the Doppelganger leapt through a tiny, tiny space and beat at the reinforced glass. "Sorry," she whispered, more to Batman than anyone else. She squeezed the trigger and the bullet took the deformed woman in the back of the shoulder.

She shrieked and the moment her spine bowed and all other motions paused was all the time Batman needed to tackle her from the side and knock her away from the window. Doppelganger's head cracked against the concrete floor and she screamed again. Eleanor advanced a couple feet, gun shakily aimed. Batman was pulling at the lump of arm against Doppelganger's chest, but as Eleanor looked closer, she noticed it wasn't giving away as flesh would have. There was something else there, and she was betting it wouldn't be a helpful something.

And as Batman's fingers tore the cloth away from the black bag and the thicker fabric ripped, Eleanor discovered she was right.

"Everyone out!" she screamed, turning her back to the wrestling duo and running back towards the police. "She's got a bomb!" There was a moment of silence before the uniforms started running out of the warehouse, back to the safety of their cars. Eleanor didn't' follow them, despite Gordon's urging. She turned and went back inside, stopping about twenty feet from the source of the danger.

The Doppelganger was looking at Eleanor. "Foolish, stupid, idiotic bitch. You should have run." She started cackling, not even struggling as Batman held her against the ground.

Eleanor glared, gun in her hands again.

Her cobalt eyes picked up a small detail. She wasn't even sure why, but her eyes fell to the bomb pressed between Batman and the Doppelganger, and Eleanor saw the limp remains of a finger threaded through what she could only guess was what needed to be pulled to set the thing off. And Eleanor was betting there was just enough control, just enough movement in that finger to detonate it. As soon as she saw the finger, she raised her eyes up to Batman's face and tried to convey the danger in that gaze, tried to warn him, to let him know he needed to move. Slowly, she crept closer to the pair, gun shaking in her outstretched hands.

The finger twitched.

"Batman, get off her! She's going to detonate the bomb!"

He leapt backwards, knocking the nearly dead hand away from the bomb. The woman who used to be Ashlynn Chiang rolled over and coughed as she continued to laugh. When she rolled back over, she sat up and smiled a lopsided smile at Batman and Eleanor.

"You should have shot me, girly."

She pulled the switch with her good hand and the world erupted.

* * *

**Author's Note… **Oooo, look. A cliffhanger. I really don't have anything clever to say. I just hope you like this chapter because I do.

**Next Chapter: Secrets.** Shh, I'm not telling.


	18. Secrets

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Eighteen: _Secrets_

* * *

It was still raining when Eleanor came to.

It wasn't raining as hard as it had been—the sheets of driving water had given away to a fine mist—but she was still soaked; her clothes and hair sticking to her skin were the first things she felt as the fog cleared from her head and the ringing subsided somewhat from her ears. The thunder was nothing but a dull rumble in the distance and lightening flashed in purple clouds on the horizon. The storm was clearly moving on. Thick white smoke hovered around the ground and rose from small fires burning in sheltered piles of garbage and on scattered chunks of charred Doppelganger. The smell of burning flesh and hair and other things clung to the insides of Eleanor's nostrils and hung in the air around her, almost oppressive in its weight. As her vision sharpened from the blobs of unintelligible colour, Eleanor realized she was no longer inside the warehouse; she was in an alley, on one side or another of said warehouse. It was an enclosed space thanks to another warehouse across the alley and brick walls at least eight feet high at both ends. The explosion must have done more damage to the building than Eleanor had thought possible if she had ended up outside.

She was lying on her stomach, her left arm bent painfully behind her back at the wrong angle and the rest of her limbs sprawled awkwardly outward, however only the one arm felt broken. That was good news. Her face stung, probably from having been scraped across the rough pavement of the alley floor, and there was a dull throbbing in her side and a sharp jab in her ribs when she inhaled. All of her ribs on that side felt like they were broken, instead of just the four or five she'd cracked before. As she maneuvered herself into a half-sitting position, she took a mental survey of the rest of body, and besides the injuries she'd already noticed and a couple more bumps and bruises, she seemed fine. As her voice faded from her head, her cobalt eyes picked up a dark shape crumpled against the opposite wall of the alley.

A dark shape that wasn't moving.

Panic grabbed at her chest, her steady breathing declining into shallow gasps. _No. That's impossible… He can't be…_ Eleanor, forgetting her own pain, pulled her broken arm to her chest in a weird parallel of Ashlynn's useless limb and half-crawled, half-scrambled forward, her good palm scraping and cutting against the ground, tears stinging her eyes. She grabbed the back of his cape so tight with her good had that her knuckles turned white and her nails bit into her hand even though the strange fabric. Eleanor didn't let go of the cape even after she had moved it from over his body.

He couldn't be dead.

He just couldn't. It wasn't possible. He was Batman, the Dark Knight, the Protector of Gotham. He couldn't die. His suit was ripped and burned and there seemed to be blood everywhere, but he could not be dead. Except he wasn't moving. There was no rise and fall of his chest, there were no little twitches of his fingers. There was nothing. The possibility that the Caped Crusader was no more slammed into her like a brick wall and suddenly she was terrified. She started hyperventilating as the panic in her body escalated, her good hand still clutching his cape like a lifeline. Batman had become a pillar of strength for her and other citizens of Gotham since he'd first appeared out of the shadows. He had affected her far more personally lately as he'd helped her and Rachel live through the Doppelganger's terror. There was now way he could be dead. The tears finally started falling. She sobbed once, loudly.

"I've got some of it loose Commissioner."

Startled, her head snapped around, fright flaring through her torso and a dull pain appearing in the muscles of her neck. The wall of the warehouse around the window had been blown out, and the rubble and remains of the crates blocked the resulting hole; a snow of shattered glass had fallen on the pile, glittering in the faint orange-ish glow of the lone light in the alley. There was no visible way to pass the rubble, but there were obviously cops behind it, digging their way through, trying to get to them, to see if they were alive; the scraping of stone against stone was a harsh and extraordinarily unwelcome noise as it reached her ears. But they didn't seem to making much progress. The police could not get through, at least not while Batman was lying unconscious and possibly dead in the alley, not while they could get him. There was always one cop who wanted to be the hero who brought the Batman in. Commissioner Gordon would fight, try and find an excuse not to worry about the Batman right at that moment, but there was always one. She had to get him out of there; her pain disappeared with the realization of this new task. Eleanor looked down at the unmoving hero of Gotham City and tried to discern any signs of life. There was nothing.

"No, no, no, no, no…" Eleanor whispered the denial over and over again as she tried to feel a pulse, a breath, _anything_. "Oh God, no. Come on Batman…" She leaned forward and put her cheek close to his face; there was no way she could even attempt CPR with a broken arm. There was nothing for what felt like a long time and then a light breath washed over her skin and she sighed heavily in relief. He was still unconscious, but he was _alive. _

Now she had to get him out of here. She'd have to wake him up first because, even if she'd had two good arms and he'd been awake, he'd be too heavy to carry. Eleanor pulled on his cape, rolling him as gently as she could onto his back. He seemed to be in all right shape and he was visiblybreathing now, albeit shallowly. The sophisticated armor seemed to have done its job and taken most of the damage since the worst visible injuries were a broken nose and several deep lacerations, including one over his right eye; blood had soaked the skin and mask on that side. But he was alive; Eleanor breathed another sigh of relief and closed her eyes, but the sound of shifting rubble behind her made her focus. There would be time later to be thankful neither she nor the Batman had died. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him best she could. Nothing happened. She bit her lip to keep herself from screaming at him, and shook him harder. A brief and tense minute passed before his eyelids snapped open, revealing his dark eyes, alert as ever.

There was a moment when he just looked at her. He remained lying on the ground. His injuries must be worse than Eleanor had originally guessed.

"Help me," he breathed suddenly, startling her. "Help me take my mask off." One of his hands pulled at the cowl. Something was keeping him from getting it over his head.

"What?" Eleanor blinked. Did he really just ask her to do what she thought he did?

"Take my mask off." He paused, took a deep breath before he continued. "I can't breathe."

Eleanor extended her hand towards the mask, but hesitated, pulling her limb back slightly. She could now see how the mask was straining against his neck and how it was digging into the cuts where it touched. She opened her mouth to ask if he was sure, but he wouldn't have asked her to take it off if he wasn't. Batman trusted her. Eleanor reached her good hand towards him again and slipped her fingers under the edge of the cowl. With a tricky bit of manipulation, and some help from Batman, she got the mask off one-handed. It fell to the ground beside her as she drew in a sharp breath. The motion hurt her ribs, but she barely noticed because under the remains of the mask of her hero was the last face she expected to see.

Under the mask of Batman was Bruce Wayne.

Eleanor bit her lip to keep from saying anything, from screaming in anger, and just stared down at him; there would be time to unleash her disbelief and anger and everything else later, when they were out of the alley. "Are you OK?" she croaked. Her voice sounded strangled and a little forced. Her good hand balled into a fist in her lap. She closed her eyes and mentally forced all her emotions back. _There will be time later_, she reiterated.

"I'm fine." One hand fumbled at his belt. Bruce pulled his phone up to his ear. His eyes never left Eleanor's. "Alfred," he breathed. And that was all he said. He returned the phone to his belt.

"The cops are digging through the rubble. We've got to get out of here," Eleanor said, keeping her voice low despite the audible anger. "Do you need help standing?"

Bruce shook his head and pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he moved. It was obvious he was in a great deal of pain, so ignoring his refusal, Eleanor stood and slipped her good shoulder under his arm and braced herself so she could take his weight as Batman raised the grapple line and fired. His arm slipped around her waist and it hurt her ribs as he held her there, but since Eleanor could only hold on with one arm, she didn't complain and settled for a pained gasp as they reached the roof. Eleanor didn't have to ask to know why they hadn't just climbed over the brick wall on the ground. Bruce was unmasked; there was no interacting with the police. She didn't know how many people knew Bruce's secret, but she was betting none of the police, not even Gordon, knew.

The Batmobile appeared out of nowhere as they reached the road on the other side of the building via the fire escape. Bearing as much of Bruce's weight as she could, Eleanor helped him into the tank-like vehicle and then stubbornly climbed into the other seat on her own, refusing Bruce's offered hand. As he drove, Eleanor realized they were heading the general direction of Wayne Manor and she wondered how she hadn't noticed anything relating to Batman before. The thought didn't last long however, as they drove through a waterfall and seemingly through the rock wall behind it. Eleanor would have loved to have turned around to see if there was a garage-like door closing behind them, but she didn't want to make her injuries worse or give Bruce any satisfaction through her curiosity. She would ask her questions later, after she had yelled, but she wasn't going to talk to him yet. Regardless of the childishness, Eleanor wasn't going to speak until she felt well enough to carry out an argument without passing out due to pain. There were things she wanted to say, things she needed to say.

As the Batmobile came to a stop and the roof slid back, Alfred was suddenly there. He gave Eleanor one raised eyebrow, but didn't say anything as her and Bruce climbed out of the Tumbler. She knew what the butler was thinking: he was wondering what the hell she was doing there, except without the profanities. As Bruce climbed onto an examination table, Eleanor sat at the desk and stared at the large, blank screen of the main computer terminal. Her side started to ache along with her ribs and other wounds, but she ignored them, intent on not turning around.

She didn't want to watch Alfred stitch Bruce up. She didn't want to look at Bruce in Batman's costume. The image just wouldn't click in her head. For the last however many months, Bruce and Batman had been completely different, two separate parts of her life. She'd been furious with Bruce, while she embraced Batman's presence in her life. Batman had helped her, saved her, and Bruce had… Bruce had left her and Rachel alone in that alley to go save the city. He trusted that they would be all right—no, he _knew _they would be all right. As the realization hit her, the anger fled from her body, replaced by pain. She turned in the chair and found the table empty and Alfred moving about, cleaning. Eleanor rose slowly and awkwardly from the chair and moved to stand beside him. Her body shook as she moved.

"Will he be OK?" she asked as she inhaled.

"_He_ will be fine, Ms. Black." Alfred looked her over quickly, his medical knowledge blatant on his face and his eyes taking in every scratch, every strained breath and every drop of blood. "You, on the other hand, need to get to a hospital, because while I feel comfortable treating Master Bruce, I do not feel comfortable treating you. And your mother would never forgive me if I treated you here. Come, I will drive you to the hospital."

Eleanor nodded, the rapid movement bringing about a wave of lightheadedness and refreshing the pain coursing through her body. She stumbled forward and Alfred caught her, hands on her upper arms. Without waiting for her to say anything else, the butler slipped his arm around her waist and hurried the young woman across the cave and up an elevator that seemed to move at the speed of light or sound or whatever. More speed was not what Eleanor's head needed. She was driven to her knees and as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, she rolled out onto the floor. The last thing she saw was the ceiling before she passed out.

* * *

It was obscenely late, well, early in the morning when the police finally managed to get all the rubble cleared. The giant hole revealed an empty alley, just like Commissioner Gordon knew it would; he still gave a quiet sigh of relief when they found nothing but garbage and stone walls. Batman and Eleanor would be long gone, and he was glad. He was obligated as the commissioner of the police to arrest the Batman, but he knew Gotham would be worse off without him, regardless of what others said. As for Eleanor… She had to be alive, or she would still have been in that alley. She'd probably turn up in a hospital somewhere.

"What do we do now Commissioner?" a young rookie asked when Gordon stepped back into the warehouse.

Gordon looked at him for a minute, trying to recall the young cop's name. He had no luck. "Get the crime scene boys down here. We've got to treat this as a crime scene. Even though we know the bomb came from the Doppelganger, we're going to have to prove it. No doubt there will be some who want to pin this on Batman."

The rookie gave a crooked smile, the light it brought to his face showing just how young he was. "Batman would never kill anyone."

Gordon sighed, wanting to believe that as wholeheartedly as the rookie. Batman hadn't killed anyone yet. Maybe that would hold, but the Commissioner had a feeling if things got pushed to the absolute, Batman would kill; to protect someone he cared about in a life or death situation, he would kill. Gordon didn't doubt it would be a last resort for the Dark Knight, but he feared for the future. He feared the appearance of more of the masked villains in Gotham City. He turned his face back to the rookie and tried to smile. "He hasn't yet, son. Let's hope it stays that way."

* * *

Bruce woke up from his mandated rest and knew right away that he was alone in the manor. There was no tangible reason for this knowledge: it was just a feeling. For so long it had been just him and Alfred in the manor, that any change in the number of occupants was perceivable to him. He climbed out of his overly large bed and padded downstairs in his striped pajama pants, pulling on a housecoat as he went. By the shafts of light falling through the windows onto the rich carpets, Bruce guessed it was around four in the afternoon; he had slept most of the day away.

From what he remembered of Eleanor's condition, Alfred had probably taken her to the hospital to get, not a better examination, but better treatment, a better place to recover. It was probably the best course of action, to pull her out of the cave, away from the reality of Batman, so she could adjust. Being close to her parents would probably help too. When he reached the kitchen, Bruce leaned on the counter and sighed, remembering the look on her face when his mask had come off. It hadn't been the best way to tell her, but he had a feeling her reaction would have been the same no matter how he had revealed his darkest secret. But, no matter how angry she was with him, and no matter how much she yelled once she was back on her feet, he trusted that she would not tell. He _knew _his secret was safe with her. He had always known it would be.

After eating a quick breakfast and getting dressed, Bruce drove to the hospital where Naomi was, and just like last time, was given the patient's location as quick as anything. She was in a private room down the hall from her mother, which meant, if she wasn't asleep and she could somehow move around, she'd be visiting Naomi. So Bruce stopped there first. Naomi was sitting up, watching television and eating. She was alone and looking like she as fast on her way to recovery. Bruce turned to walk down the hall.

As Bruce stepped away from the door though, Naomi called out to him. "Why don't you come in and say hi Bruce?"

Nothing seemed to get past Naomi Black. He smiled to himself and returned to the room. "How are you Naomi?" he asked as he sat in the chair beside the smirking patient's bed. "Where's Liam?"

"I'm doing perfectly well, thank you. Liam's at work and will be back as soon as he's finished for the day."

"Will you be going home soon?"

The woman nodded, some of her reddish hair falling across her eyes. She brushed it out of the way and smiled at him, fine lines appearing at the corners of her mouth and eyes. "We'll be at the hospital for a while yet anyways," she said, not sounding in the least bit worried. Bruce was sure this was just an exterior, that Naomi must be frantic on the inside. "My daughter looks like a Borg drone right now with all those wires and tubes and bandages…" Naomi laughed at the look Bruce gave her. "I've been watching reruns of _Star Trek Voyager_. There is nothing else on during the day. Not that I mind." She smiled as Bruce chuckled. "You should be allowed in to see Eleanor; her surgery went fine and she's just resting now. I can't promise she'll be awake, but that Butler or yours hasn't left since he brought her in."

Bruce nodded, unsurprised at Alfred's actions. "I'll see you later Naomi." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek before he left and headed to Eleanor's room.

The room was quiet; she was asleep. Eleanor was lying in a perfectly straight line with her left arm, in a cast, on top of the thin blankets and her red-brown hair fanned out around her neck and shoulders. There were bandages covering most of her face and both her eyes were swollen, the right more so than the left. The blankets bulged slightly over the lower left side of her abdomen. She did indeed resemble a member of the Borg collective with all the tubes and wires running from her to machines and to other parts of her. Bruce smiled in spite of himself. He approached Alfred who was sitting in the only chair in the room, his head titled back and his eyes closed. He was snoring softly. The noise ceased as Bruce drew closer.

"Ah, Master Wayne. I was wondering when you'd arrive."

"How is she?" he asked, slipping his hands into his pockets. His hazel eyes fell to Eleanor's form and didn't leave.

"She's cracked several more ribs in addition to the ones already broken, and her left arm is broken in two places. The worst of it was a small shard of metal which somehow slipped under the vest she was wearing and embedded itself in her side. It punctured her large intestine, but the surgery went very well and pending any complications, she will be perfectly fine."

Bruce was silent for a time, just looking at her. "How long have I been asleep?" Bruce suddenly asked. Even though he was pretty sure, he wanted to be certain.

"Most of the day, sir. It's nearly five o'clock. I think I shall get a cup of tea." Alfred sighed quietly and vacated the chair. He placed a comforting hand on Bruce's arm before he left the room.

Bruce pushed the chair closer to the side of the bed and sat down, taking Eleanor's good hand in his own and squeezing gently. Her skin was warm under the sheen of sweat. He sighed as he looked at her, vulnerable and strangely peaceful. Her serene expression stirred up guilt and made Bruce frown. This—Eleanor in the hospital bed, broken and bruised and scratched—was his fault. He should have fought against her harder; he should have never let her come with him. Sighing again, he leaned forward and brushed a few stray hairs from her face, his fingers brushing one of the thick pads of bandages. "I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispered. "I should never have let you come with me. I knew it was too dangerous." His voice dropped as he sighed again. "Maybe if I had told you I was Batman before you wouldn't have wanted to come…" He smiled a bit. "No, you still would have come. You would have been furious with me, just like you are now, but you still would have wanted to fight the Doppelganger." Bruce squeezed her hand gently again and just looked at her for a long time in silence. Once, a nurse came in to check on her, but she didn't say anything or disrupt Bruce, just came in, did her checking and then left silently as she had come. Bruce didn't want this to happen to Eleanor again, but he knew it would. If she stayed involved with him, with Batman, it would. She would get herself hurt again. _He _would get her hurt again. The best course of action would be for her to leave, for her to forget about Batman, but he knew that getting her to do that would be an impossible task for both of them. Eleanor would refuse to leave and Bruce couldn't fight her because he wanted her to stay. He liked having her around and he wanted her there. He could push her away as much as he wanted, but she would keep coming back.

"How is she?" came a quiet voice from the doorway, interrupting Bruce's thoughts.

He turned in the chair without letting go of Eleanor's hand and looked at Rachel, a take-out cup of coffee wrapped in one hand. As the brunette walked across the room, Bruce said: "Alfred said her surgery went well and, if there aren't any complications, she'll be fine. How are you?"

"I was released this morning." She stooped to kiss Bruce on the cheek in greeting and then leaned on the wall and looked down at Eleanor. "I saw Alfred as I was leaving, in the waiting room on the surgical floor. I thought you might have been in there—"

"You stayed even when you found out it wasn't me?"

Rachel nodded and slowly sat down on the floor. She winced a bit as something protested, and she sat with one leg extended outward as if she couldn't fold it under her like the other one, but she seemed much better than the last time Bruce had seen her. "I was worried about her. I was watching the news, and she was out there, risking her life because she made some incredibly stupid decision that was almost sure to get her killed, but I was worried." Rachel sighed and took a sip of her coffee. "She helped destroy the Doppelganger, and in the process of making her life safe, of getting revenge for her parents, she made my life safe and the lives of everyone else in Gotham. At least for a while. At least from one criminal."

"It was a stupid decision," Bruce mused to himself.

"Where were you while it was happening?"

"What?"

"I phoned while I was watching the news, and Alfred said you weren't home. Where were you?"

"I was at Wayne Enterprises, watching the news with Lucius and Adam and Shauna. They never seem to leave that place," he said, trying to change the subject.

Rachel didn't seem pleased with his explanation, but she didn't say anything else and settled for rolling her eyes as she took another sip from the steaming cup. Silence descended again as they both watched the steady rise and fall of Eleanor's chest and listened to the beeping of her many monitors. Eventually Eleanor began to stir; the hand Bruce was holding returning the squeeze, but only out of reflex. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him like she had no idea who he was. Which probably wasn't far from the truth at the moment. Her eyes moved to Rachel after a second and the hostility faded from her face. She actually smiled and Rachel, moving on some instinct, returned the gesture and pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, blocking Eleanor's view of Bruce. Smart as she was, Rachel didn't ask any questions. She took Eleanor's hand away from Bruce and into her own, keeping the half-sedated woman's attention on her and not on someone she was quite obviously unhappy to see.

"Hey Eleanor," Rachel said, keeping her voice quiet. "How are you feeling?"

"Groggy," she mumbled, closing her eyes and shifting as if she was trying to stretch like one would when the first woke up. "Why are you here?" Eleanor didn't sound angry, just curious.

"I was worried. I saw you on the news and thought you were going to get yourself killed." Rachel smiled a bit. "You're not exactly the most rational thinker when you're around Batman. Remember when you ran to the front of the crowd and got squished?"

"Yeah…" Eleanor laughed and it was a weird noise, not like her normal laugh at all. "That was stupid." She wiped at her eye with the heel of her hand and then winced as it hurt her bruised flesh. "Ow. That was stupid too. How bad do I look?" She looked up at Rachel, completely ignoring Bruce.

"You look fine. Just a little purple."

"Purple?!" Eleanor's voice cracked and she expressed her displeasure and she made a funny face, started by her own voice. "I must be hideous." She paused and then laughed. As her laughter faded, her jovial attitude disappeared as quickly as it had come and she glared at Bruce. "Why is he here?" she asked Rachel, something in her voice making her seem like a little kid. She was clinging to Rachel, the other woman in the room, the other person who had been through what she had; even if they were never friends, they would always have this bond, forged by the Doppelganger.

"He was worried about you too, Eleanor." Rachel looked from Eleanor to Bruce and then back. "I need something to eat. I'll be back in a few minutes, OK?"

Eleanor nodded and let Rachel's hand go, almost reluctantly, like she didn't want to be alone with Bruce. She stared at Bruce and her glare, meant to be dangerous and angry, was significantly dulled by the drugs in her system. "You should have told me," she mumbled. Apparently, her mind wasn't as clouded as he'd thought.

Bruce didn't say anything.

* * *

Eleanor recovered from surgery rapidly, surprising everyone, including the doctors. After two days, her bruises had mostly faded to green and yellow and she needed very little pain medication and could sit up and talk to her frequent visitors. Naomi and Liam were at the hospital everyday, always running around getting whatever Eleanor or anyone else who happened to be visiting needed, and they were always smiling, happy to see their daughter in one piece and progressing back to normal life. Adam and Shauna came as often as they could, usually bringing work with them and always chatting incessantly as their fingers moved across their keyboards; they were both impressive multi-taskers, and Eleanor took great joy in having her best friends near. Lucius Fox came once as did several other people from Wayne Enterprises and friends of her parents. Rachel came two or three times and her and Eleanor carried on civil conversations for the first time in their lives. Alfred and Bruce came everyday for at least an hour, but Eleanor never said much to Bruce. But she didn't yell either. She was probably waiting until they were alone to yell.

"Oh honey! I have great news!" Naomi exclaimed as she ran into the hospital room, a bowl of Jell-O balanced in one hand. She gave Eleanor the blue dessert and plopped down on the edge of the bed. "The doctor said you can go home tomorrow! Oh Blaze will be so happy to finally have you back! He's done nothing but lay around the house!" Naomi and Liam, who had agreed to look after Blaze had taken him to their manor. They had three other big dogs and normally, Blaze loved to go there and run around the expansive back yard.

"I'll be glad to see him too," Eleanor assured her mother as she ate her Jell-O. She missed her dog, the only member of her family who couldn't come and visit in the hospital.

"Ellie!" Shauna ran into the room, laptop tucked under her arm and black wool coat flapping out behind her. "I brought you a treat!" Laughing, Naomi moved to the chair and let the energetic engineer take the bed. The auburn-headed young woman produced a box of chocolates with orange and raspberry cream filling. "Your favourite!" she chimed, smiling broadly.

"Oo, thank you." Eleanor popped one of the chocolates into her mouth. After she had finished enjoying the morsel, Eleanor made her face serious. "I thought you and Adam had some big project you were working on. You two usually hole up in the basement when you're working on something important."

Shauna shrugged. "I'm taking a break. Except for seeing you and going home for a few hours, we _are _holed up in the basement."

"What are you working on?"

"I'm not at liberty to say." Shauna's eyes looked from side to side dramatically, like she was looking for anyone listening too closely, like she was a spy or something with some dangerous information. "It's a top-secret project right from Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox doesn't even know exactly what it is."

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. That was interesting. There weren't many projects Mr. Fox didn't know about. And since she was his assistant, when she was at work, there weren't many projects Eleanor didn't know about either. She missed being in that loop. "Ah well. I'm sure I'll find out eventually." She ate another chocolate before putting the lid on the box and box on the bedside table. "You can't even give me any hints about the project?" she asked with a smile on her face. Shauna shook her head and Eleanor sighed, exaggerating the motion. "Oh well. I guess I'll just remain curious."

"I guess you will."

Shauna slipped onto the floor after the exchange and opened her laptop, her fingers quickly becoming a blur on the keyboard. When Adam or Shauna were on "a break" from work, it just meant they weren't in the basement of Wayne Enterprises anymore, by no means did they stop working. Their laptops went with them to every location Eleanor had ever seen them in, and the hospital was no exception. Naomi disappeared again, probably to go browse the gift shop for about the millionth time or to go get some breakfast. Liam was at work—he hadn't been hospitalized, so he didn't get a few weeks off like Naomi—and as Eleanor turned on the television and Shauna became absorbed in her work, Naomi needed to find some way to amuse herself; her attention span wasn't long enough to sit and read or watch television for extended periods of time.

Eleanor's attention was not on whatever television show was onscreen. Her mind was wondering around what had happened in the alley and how she felt. On the first day she'd been conscious enough to hold a conversation, Naomi had all but begged her daughter to get out of Gotham for a while. She seemed to think Eleanor needed to get away from what happened, to clear her head and get back on her feet. Naomi and Liam, mostly Naomi, wanted Eleanor to spend some time in Metropolis, where there wasn't as much crime, where she could just relax for a while. Eleanor didn't want to go, she didn't want to relax. She didn't think she needed time to get over what had happened, to recover. Eleanor felt fine. She felt like she could get back to her life right away—she _wanted _to. But she wanted to appease Naomi, who had already been through a lot and didn't need the stubbornness of her daughter on top of everything. Her and Liam would be taking a vacation to the Caribbean soon, but Eleanor wasn't as fond of the sun and beaches as they were, so she had declined the invitation. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew she'd be spending some time in Metropolis.

Eleanor sighed, drawing Shauna's attention away from her computer.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, fingers hovering over the keys.

"No, no, I'm fine." Eleanor forced herself to smile, knowing she would have to tell Shauna eventually.

But first, she wanted to talk to Bruce.

* * *

**Author's Note… **All right, so this damn chapter took me a very, very, very long time. (The fact that I rewrote the beginning about six or seven times none withstanding, of course.) I like the way it turned out overall, although the end is a little scattered. This is clearly a big chapter and I tried to make the reveal a little different from anything previously. I don't know how well I succeeded, but I tried. Also, just a note about Eleanor's reactions when she's badly wounded: it's called shock and it can prevent you from feeling pain or anything for a very long time. The sudden rush of pain and passing out is normal in a situation with shock. ANYWAY, I really like the chapter and I hope you like it too. There's only one chapter left. And a possible epilogue. That's a big maybe. It depends on the direction I decide to take with the ending of this fic. Just thought I'd give you a little teaser. (winks)

But, rest assured, there is a sequel coming. It will be called **Joke's On You**, and yes the Joker is involved, but it has nothing to do with The Dark Knight, since I already have a TDK fic. That's just a coincidence. Catwoman will also be there as well as my friend Shauna's original character Daria Vaudry. There are a few more surprises, but that one won't be up until **Chances Are **gets moving a bit.

**Next Chapter: Afterward. **Eleanor and Bruce have a lot of unsaid things to get off their chests and some decisions to make.


	19. Afterward

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

* * *

**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Chapter Nineteen: _Afterward_

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The remainder of Eleanor's hospital stay was uneventful in all aspects. There were no medical complications, no more was said about her going to Metropolis or the secret project Adam and Shauna were working on. Eleanor healed rather quickly and was just taking normal pain medication by the time she was released. Eleanor was released from the hospital three days after Shauna first told her of the top-secret project, but she didn't return to her loft. At the urging of her parents, both of whom were doctors, Alfred and Bruce—who was speaking through Alfred because he and Eleanor still weren't talking—Eleanor and Blaze were moved into Wayne manor where she would have someone to help her move around and accomplish what she needed to. The doctors had insisted she have someone take care of her for a few weeks while she finished recovering so she didn't put any more strain than necessary on her stitches and other injuries. Naomi had felt bad she couldn't be there for her daughter, but she was able to return to work on light duty very quickly and, quite frankly, Eleanor didn't want to hold her mother back. Naomi had been cooped up in the hospital room for so long that she _had_ to be itching to move around more freely; her mother wasn't one to sit still for very long. Alfred was usually at the manor all day anyway, and he was more than willing to help Eleanor, and there were several people eager for Eleanor and Bruce to get over whatever was keeping them apart when they had been so close before. Alfred was near the top of that list, if not at the very top.

But there was no immediate forgiveness or friendliness. Eleanor took every opportunity to argue her position and ask the same question over and over again: "Why didn't you tell me you were Batman?" Thanks to childish conversational tactics, frustrating periods of completely ignoring Bruce and her incredible stubbornness, Eleanor was at the mansion for almost two whole days before her and Bruce had any sort of real conversation.

But Bruce could understand at least a little bit why she was so mad. She felt betrayed because she and Bruce had been so close and he hadn't told her that he was Batman. She felt wronged because he had kept himself in her life without telling her and let her think he really didn't care all that much about her. Now, he had to believe she knew on some level _why _he hadn't told her; he had to believe that she could comprehend the difficulty in telling a secret as large as his, even when she'd already been involved a lot closer than most people could ever dream of being. He had to believe that through all the arguing, the yelling and demanding to know why she hadn't been included, that she had some grasp on the reality of the situation. And above all, he had to believe that her anger would fade eventually and that they could have a real conversation pertaining to the whole thing.

That happened sooner than he ever expected it to.

Eleanor was sitting on the large couch in the library on the ground floor. Her back was against the arm rest and there was a large book propped open on her thighs. There was mug of tea cradled in her good hand, the steam rising and curling around her head. Her cobalt eyes were bright and captivating again, telling Bruce she was almost back to normal; her husky Blaze was asleep on the floor at her side, never having left since they'd been reunited. Outside, there was a gentle snow falling and there was a slight chill to the room, but there was a fire crackling away, banishing it from the immediate area. Eleanor had spent her time at the manor in the library, doing as she had so long wished and devouring the expansive collection of novels Bruce's parents had owned. And she looked positively at home there, curled on the couch.

Bruce leaned on the couch behind her and turned his face towards her. "What are you reading?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. He had tried several times to initiate any sort of discourse with Eleanor, but she had only one goal when speaking to him, and he hadn't come up with an answer to fulfill that goal yet. He didn't know why he hadn't told her he was Batman.

"Some Edgar Allen Poe," she said simply.

Bruce blinked and looked down at her. Eleanor's eyes smiled at him over the rim of her mug. She was apologizing silently; still as stubborn as ever. A silent agreement was reached and Bruce smiled back as he sat at her feet on the couch. After she closed her book and set it on the large, low coffee table, Eleanor folded her legs beneath her and let Bruce move closer so his leg was against the front of her knees. They sat like that for a while, looking at each other intently, almost in silent conversation, studying each other. Things still weren't back to the way they had been by any means—they never would be, not with the hulking figure in the black cowl currently between them—but this was progress, and both parties were thinking what to say and how to say it so as not to mess up what they had gained. It was a moment reminiscent of the one they'd had in the hospital, but there was no hostility this time; they were not trying to stare each other down and they weren't trying to make the other talk.

"I'm done being childish and stupid, Bruce," Eleanor eventually said, her shoulders falling out of their defiant gesture. "I'm still mad at you, but I've chosen to handle it a little better." A small smile played at the corner of her mouth as she tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ear.

"Good." Bruce placed a hand on her knee and smiled at her. "I was tired of seeing a teenaged Eleanor again. It wasn't pretty the first time around either."

Eleanor playfully smacked his shoulder and laughed a bit. When her laughter faded, she looked at him with a more serious expression. Her eyes were still shimmering however, she was still happy. "Do you have an answer yet? I mean, you obviously trust me not to tell anyone you're… Batman. Did you just not trust me before or something?" The way she hesitated before saying Batman betrayed her underlying problem of seeing Bruce and Batman as the same person.

Bruce shifted so he was half-turned towards Eleanor. "I've always trusted you Eleanor. I wanted to tell you before, but I didn't now how." He ran his hand back over his hair. "I've never told anyone that I was Batman before; I didn't know how to go about it. This sounds remarkably cheesy, but I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know I was Batman, but things… escalated so quickly and there was no time, and I thought if you found out while we were fighting the Doppelganger, that your temper would get in the way and you would get yourself hurt." Bruce paused and looked at her for a minute. He had said that all slowly and measured, as was his way, but there was a quality of it being rushed, a quality of him explaining himself to her and not really knowing what he was supposed to be saying. He exhaled a long breath, and then continued. "I was worried about your reaction, Ellie. You were so close to serious injury—to death—so many times. I couldn't give you another reason to get hurt. I wasn't going to fuel your anger. Look at what I did to you already," he said, gesturing at her arm, still in a cast and mostly immobile pinned to her chest as it was. His face softened with the obvious grief and guilt he was carrying.

The fingers of the arm in the cast curled tightly as Eleanor observed his reaction. "Bruce, you didn't do this to me. I did this to myself because I'm a complete idiot. It was not your fault."

"If I had fought harder against you coming with me—"

"Shut up Bruce," Eleanor barked. Blaze sat up and echoed the noise, nudging Eleanor's useless elbow with his head once he realized there was no danger. "Stop trying to take all the blame for my stupidity." She smiled at him and took his hand with her good one. "I wanted revenge. I was going to follow you no matter what you said. Although," she mused, "I must admit, if you had told me you were Batman before, I don't really know what I would have done." She smiled at him and squeezed his hand before entwining her fingers in his.

"I still don't think that would have stopped you." Bruce sighed and rubbed his thumb across the back of Eleanor's hand.

"No, probably not."

Eleanor's smile faded as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed. It was an unconscious thing, but it alerted Bruce to unspoken thoughts on her mind. "There's something you're not telling me, Ellie. What is it?"

She sighed and squeezed his hand again before pulling it back and running her fingers backwards through her hair. The hand in the cast clenched and unclenched in time with her breathing. She had been looking for a good time to tell him about her mother's request and this seemed as good of time as any she was going to get, although she wasn't keen on changing the subject. They had been getting somewhere with the Batman issue. "Well… it's my parents," she said slowly. "They… they want me to spend some time in Metropolis." It didn't take a psychologist to figure out she wasn't happy with the idea. She kept her eyes on their hands, still laced together. "My mom thinks I need some time to get away and rest, to heal properly. But I don't want to—"

"I think they're onto something, Ellie."

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowed in a glare. "I don't want to go. I don't think I need to. I want to stay here and help you." Her voice shook slightly with the effort of keeping her emotions in check.

Bruce winced inwardly. He had anticipated this, he had guessed she'd want to stay involved even if she wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of Bruce being Batman yet, but like so many other things, he had been hoping she would make the _smart _decision, not the one she wanted; not the one that very well may have been right for both of them. The fact that he had Adam and Shauna preparing for this didn't matter—that solution wouldn't be ready for at least another month, so there was no point in bringing it up yet. There was no point in getting Eleanor's hopes up when there was a high chance the engineers could fail in what he had asked them to do. The billionaire didn't really want Eleanor to leave, but maybe spending a little while in Metropolis would be good for her. If anything, it would keep her from prying into what he wanted to be a surprise.

"Ellie," he said. "I think you should spend at least a couple months in Metropolis after you've got the doctor's OK. Just to give you time to process everything."

"I don't need time to process the fact that you're Batman—OK, well, I might, but I can do that here."

"That wasn't what I was referring to, Eleanor. You just survived having your life seriously threatened. You're probably still running on that high. You need time to bring things back into perspective. You need time to heal mentally, for lack of a better term."

"Bruce, I'm _fine_."

"I'm sure you are." He sighed. This probably wasn't going to get them anywhere. "Please go to Metropolis for a while. You know if you don't your mother won't get off your back about it, and—" he sighed again, wondering if he should really say what he was about to "—if you're going to help me, if you're going to help _Batman_, then you need to be in good shape. I'm not about to let you get hurt again." When he looked at her again, she was smiling the largest smile he'd seen from her in a long time. It almost made him smile. Almost. Her gesture highlighted the fading bruises, reminding him of what he'd done, and foreshadowing what _would _happen if she remained a part of Batman's world. "Will you go?"

Her smiled faltered before fading to nothing. She sighed and then said: "Fine. I'll go."

Some part of Bruce was happy, some part of him hoped she'd see the sense and stay in the safer city, but the larger part of him, the ruling part knew she wouldn't and was even happier for that. He wanted her around. He needed her around. He reached forward and took her hand again. "Ellie, I… You know this is going to be incredibly dangerous right? You staying with me and being so close to Batman. There are those who would do anything to get their hands on the secret identity of Batman."

"I know Bruce."

"Promise me you _will _think about it?"

"There's nothing to think about. I'll go to Metropolis, but I'm not staying. I'm not living you."

"Ellie…" Bruce struggled to find the words to express his concern without exposing his desire for her to stay.

With his usual perfect timing, Alfred strode into the library, drawing all attention to him and away from whatever Bruce was going to say. "Dinner is ready," the butler announced. A small smile played at his lips as he observed the clasped hands and the closeness of the two young people. He had waited for something like this for a long time. Now, he only hoped it would last, that Bruce had finally found someone he could share his whole life with. After a moment, Alfred turned on his heel and walked away, the small smile growing until it beamed in full force, out of view of the others.

Without saying anything to one another, Eleanor and Bruce climbed off the couch and walked to the kitchen, still holding hands. They sat across the small table from each other and little was said as they ate the expertly cooked meal of baked fish, assorted vegetables and baked potatoes. Alfred left them be. Blaze trotted in a took up a seat on the floor beside Eleanor's chair, looking for table scraps no doubt, but resigning to eat the dry food in the bowl at the end of the counter when he realized he wasn't getting any treats. Eleanor was mentally wrestling with the idea of going to Metropolis, even if it was only for a little while and Bruce was mentally wrestling over whether or not to tell her about what Adam and Shauna were doing in the depths of Wayne Enterprises. So each stayed occupied in their own minds until a more convenient time to talk came about after dinner, when their mouths weren't otherwise occupied. When they had finished, they both returned to the library and settled onto the large and comfortable window seat. It would be time for Bruce to don the cowl of Batman and head into the city soon, so whatever there was to be said had to be said soon, or it would have to wait until tomorrow when courage and words had faded from memory.

"I hope you don't expect me to stay in Metropolis very long."

"Like I said, just a couple months at the most. That should appease your parents and give you enough time to think things over."

"You better not be thinking I'll realize it's a better place and move there for good."

"The thought crossed my mind."

Eleanor rolled her eyes and fixed a disbelieving look on him. "There is _no _way I would stay there. My place is here, in Gotham." Her eyes turned incredibly serious. "My place is here, with you," she confessed with such heavy emotion in her voice that Bruce was a little taken aback.

He gazed at her for a long time in silence as she leaned back into the cushions, the moonlight highlighting her face and bringing it into stark relief. She _was _right. Her place _was _here. Whether Bruce was ready for it or not, Eleanor was a part of Batman's world—of his world. Whether he was ready for it or not, she was here and not easily would she be removed. And he realized, with a bit of a shock, he was OK with that. Bruce got to his feet and again offered his hand to Eleanor. She took it no questions asked and let him lead her upstairs to his father's study where he pressed the keys of the piano and a section of the bookcase swung outward revealing the small elevator concealed behind. When Eleanor realized where he was taking her—that this was his way of telling her she was allowed into the world of Batman, that he was serious about letting her help—she smiled and squeezed his hand before letting it go and stepping into the elevator; she made a small noise of surprise as the car began its rapid decent to the caves beneath Wayne Manor.

The smile didn't leave her face, even as she stepped onto the chilly rock floor in her bare feet; Bruce would never understand her aversion to socks. "This is fabulous," she whispered. The only other time she'd been in the cave—before the hospital, when she'd been delirious with shock of several kinds—she hadn't got a really good look at the headquarters of her hero. Everything was falling in a new light.

Bruce hung back a few steps, watching as she admired the work he and Alfred had put into transforming the cave into something relatively hospitable. For Batman anyway. She ran her hand gently over the equipment at the main terminal, taking a few minutes to decide what each one did, stopping and smiling knowingly over her shoulder as she reached a particular device which had come from Wayne Enterprises.

"So _this _is where all the things you take from work end up."

He nodded. "Applied Sciences has been a very useful department."

"Does Lucius know who you are?" she asked, sitting in the large computer chair and swinging it around to look at him.

Bruce headed in the direction of the wardrobe where the Batsuit was stored and pulled open the doors. "He knows, but he's never said anything directly about it. It's sort of a game: coming up with new ways to talk about Batman without ever actually letting anyone else know."

Eleanor spun the chair around as Bruce began to change and blinked as the large computer screen flared to life at her motion. "And Rachel? Does she know?" Try as she might, she couldn't keep her voice from tightening a bit. She didn't want Rachel to know his secret. Eleanor wanted to be the only person who he'd told. She wanted that claim; she wanted to be that special to him.

"No. She doesn't know."

Smiling a little cruelly, Eleanor settled deeper into the computer chair, swinging it idly back and forth, her eyes rooted to the computer screen, studying the names of the desktop folders. "Am I allowed to say I'm glad?"

Bruce appeared at her side, dressed fully in the garb of Batman save the cowl. He put his hand on the back of the chair and spun it around so he could look down at Eleanor. "I figured at much." He leaned over her so he could reach the keyboard, letting her take the cowl from his hands. With a few quick strokes, he keyed up a vectored map of Gotham City that somehow managed to be incredibly complicated and wonderfully simple at the same time. "Essentially, you can be completely wired into the Tumbler and me from down here, if you want." He vaguely indicated what looked like a radio. "Alfred will probably bring you food and tea at some point. There's a phone and a normal computer on that side of the desk."

Eleanor smiled and stood up in front of him, so close that she effectively silencing him. The cowl was held tightly in her hand. Here she was, standing in the Batcave with Batman like she had so often dreamt and thought about, and it felt completely normal. It felt right. Of course, the mysterious figure was Bruce, and that took much of the enigmatic quality of the Batman away, but there was still a feeling of utter comfort in this cave. This really was her place. "I'll be here when you get back." She placed the cowl on his head, amazed at the transformation as it slid down over his eyes and nose, even though she could see it was still Bruce. She smiled warmly, her hands tracing the lines of the mask as they fell away. Her cheeks flushed and she hesitated briefly before rising up to kiss him softly on the lips. "Even though I know I don't have to say it," she whispered, "I'm going to since I want the chance to get used to be being Batman. Be careful."

"I always am."

"I know."

Eleanor sunk back into the chair as she watched Bruce climb into the Tumbler and drive off. For what felt like only a few minutes, but was almost two hours in reality, Eleanor remained still. In opposition to her earlier claims, she was indeed trying to process everything that had just happened. Even though she would be going to Metropolis soon, Bruce had just welcomed her into his world, he had just accepted her as part of Batman's world, of his life. There was an undeniable knot of excitement in her gut, but there was no way to resolve it because she couldn't tell anyone anything that just happened. Well OK, she could tell people that her and Bruce were getting along again, that they were again friends—wait, no, that wasn't right, they weren't just friends anymore, but Eleanor didn't think there was a word in the English language capable of describing what their relationship was. A smug grin twisted her lips and she pulled the batarang Bruce had given her out of her pocket and ran her fingers over the once-sharp edge dulled by hours of similar treatment. Regardless of what she could and couldn't say about Batman and Bruce Wayne, Naomi had to be told of her daughter's decision to comply.

She picked up the phone and grudgingly dialed the number for her parents' home, not looking forward to what she was about to do.

_"Black Residence." _

"Hi Nathan," she said, happy to hear the old chef's voice. "It's Eleanor. Is my mother there?"

_"Hello Eleanor! Yes your mother is here. Just a moment." _There were a few seconds where all Eleanor could hear was muted shuffling, and then the noises of the phone being lifted from the table. _"Hello Eleanor," _came her mother's pleasant voice.

"Hey Mom. I uh, I'm going to go to Metropolis for a little while like you said."

_"Oh thank you Eleanor! I really think the time away will do you some good! Your father and I have already arranged for you to stay at that fancy hotel we stayed at when you were little, the one with the big pool—oh, I can't remember the name of it right now. When are you leaving?" _

"Don't sound so excited Mom. I'll leave in a couple weeks when the doctor says I'm OK to move around on my own."

_"I'm sorry Hun, it's just that I'm glad you decided to go." _

"Well thank Bruce for talking me into it," Eleanor grumbled. She looked in the general direction of the waterfall where Bruce had exited the cave and glared.

_"I will. So you two are talking again?" _

She felt her face flush and nodded before remembering she was on the phone and saying: "Yes. Things are… good again."

_"Why were you so mad at him anyway?"  
_

"It doesn't even matter anymore. I've got to go now Mom; tell Dad I say hi. Love you."

_"Love you too dear. Good night." _

Eleanor returned the phone to its charger and leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes and sighing heavily.

"Would you care for some tea Ms. Black?"

She spun the chair around and nodded to Alfred before greatly accepting the proffered teacup. Eleanor turned back to face the computer and watched the dot resembling Batman move across the screen.

* * *

Across the river, across Gotham, in West Harlow, Batman stood on the roof across from Rachel's apartment building. She was safe now, from the Doppelganger anyway, but she had been shaken. The last time Bruce had seen her at the hospital, she had been jittery, always moving. She didn't seem comfortable in her own skin anymore, in Gotham. The last time he'd seen her at the hospital and had told her the plan for Eleanor's stay at the manor, she had given off a vibe of being ready to run away. Bruce had the feeling Rachel wouldn't be staying Gotham for much longer. Like Eleanor, she would be taking a leave from the city, but hers would be voluntary, hers would not have to be forced. There was nothing to keep Rachel Dawes in the city, not while she felt so uncomfortable; her parents had long ago moved to somewhere quieter, and her best friend had changed so completely that he was no longer the man she might have one day married.

There was a part of a Bruce that lamented the loss of that option; he had loved Rachel, he still did love Rachel, but she could never accept all of him, not like Eleanor. Rachel wouldn't have a problem with seeing Bruce as Batman, but she wouldn't want both. She wasn't one for masks. Bruce hoped they'd stay friends, even if she left. He didn't want her out of his life.

Slipping his phone off of his belt, he dialed her number and waited for her to pick up. _"Hello?" _

"Hi Rachel, it's Bruce," he said, dropping Batman's growl. He was very alone on the rooftop, and there wasn't much going on over the police scanner he was picking up over his high-tech hearing enhancer. He had time.

* * *

**Author's Note… **Holy crap, it's taken me a year to finish this bloody story. (And I'm just talking about the story proper, because yes, there is going to be an epilogue.) But this is the end of the story portion of the fic. The epilogue isn't part of the story. Well, I don't consider it part of the main story anyway. BUT ANYWAYS, I hope you like this chapter. It's shorter than the others, but I didn't want to make it seem too wordy or too conclusive, because it's not supposed to be. You're just supposed to get an idea of where things are going. There's a bit of a conclusion, but whatever. I just hope you like it.

Thank you so much to everyone who's loved, read and reviewed this fic. Your love means a lot to me. (hugs for all)

I realized when I was writing this that Bruce and Ellie interrupt each other a lot… Hm.

**Epilogue: Bright Lights; Big City. **Just a little lead in to the sequel… All chapter titles are going to be song titles because I think that's a neat idea. The songs contributing their titles to the Epilogue are "Bright Lights" by Matchbox 20 and "Big City" by Operation Ivy. I don't like the latter song, but I needed a title and some lyrics that kind of work… Bah.


	20. Epilogue: Bright Lights, Big City

I don't own anything to do with **Batman**. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.

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**Reflection of His Enemy  
**Epilogue: _Bright Lights; Big City_

_

* * *

  
_Rachel sat in her apartment, staring at the wall, listening to the constant whirring of the lights and the hot water in the pipes. She hadn't slept a full night since she'd come home from the hospital. There was a translucency to her skin and a vacancy in her eyes. She was afraid to be alone. She didn't want to be alone. Not even in her apartment. The dwelling, which had for so long before been her sanctuary, been the place where she came to relax, to get away from everything, only reminded her of being attacked; the plates, still-shattered on the floor and the broken cupboard doors and the other signs of the struggle still hanging around didn't help. And she didn't think the problem would be fixed by cleaning up the mess or moving to a different apartment. She was sure cleaning or moving wouldn't really help. Gotham reminded her of the Doppelganger, of being attacked. She needed to get away from the city, she need to be away until the city didn't scream danger to her.

She sighed. Rachel wished she could be as strong as Eleanor seemed to be in this respect. The younger woman seemed to be completely over the attack, and she'd been hit worse than Rachel. Eleanor was still attached to the city, it wasn't driving her away. It didn't seem to be a place of danger for Eleanor. Or, Rachel mused, it could be that Eleanor just had more to stay in Gotham for: her parents, her friends, her attachment to Batman… Bruce. Rachel sighed again and put her face in her hands, leaning forward, curling into a position of defeat. There had been a point in her life when she had been _sure_ she'd marry Bruce someday, _sure _that she'd become Mrs. Bruce Wayne and raise a family. It had seemed inevitable that her and Bruce would grow old together. But now… Eleanor seemed to have taken that place. They seemed much closer now, more than they ever have before. After his seven year absence, Bruce had changed. He was incredibly different from when he left, from their childhood. Who Bruce was now seemed more fitting with Eleanor's personality.

On top of that, Rachel's parents had moved out of Gotham a while ago, into the country where they could live quietly and away from the darkness and crime of the city. There really was nothing left in Gotham for her to stay for. Yes she had friends, and yes, she had her job, but other than that, there was nothing. She had enough clout at the DA's office that she could likely get a job somewhere else anyway. Somewhere safer. Somewhere were she didn't feel as if her life was in constant danger.

She just needed to get away. Even if it was just for a little while.

It wasn't an easy choice to make. Rachel had been in Gotham her whole life, only moving to go to Harvard Law. She had come right back after graduating. Gotham was and always would be her home, but right then, she didn't want to be there. Maybe she'd go visit her parents for a while…

* * *

Adam stared at the computer screen, trying to process the numbers he was seeing. He had been at this for far too long; all the numbers were running together, and he wasn't sure if they were making any progress. Mr. Wayne had given them this project and wanted it finished as soon as possible, and that always meant incredibly long and extending periods of work. He didn't know why Mr. Wayne wanted _this _particular serum developed beyond what it was, especially after what had happened, but hey, he was the one in charge. There hadn't been much progress—at least nothing visible—and that was a little disheartening, but they'd push through. Blinking and rubbing his eyes with his hands, Adam stood up and walked back towards the mini-fridge containing all the usual sustenance he and Shauna kept for themselves. Said Shauna was currently asleep on the couch, sprawled out awkwardly, half her limbs hanging over the edge and the blanket tangled around her legs. Adam smiled to himself and pulled one of the canned energy drinks from the fridge. He returned to the desk before opening it, the popping noise echoing through the basement office the engineers had contained themselves too. He took a long drink and closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair to wait for the energy part of the energy drink to kick in.

He got less than that as the computer started beeping at him.

"What now?" he grumbled, sitting up straight and forcing his light blue eyes back on the screen. When he saw what was there, he gasped, coughed and then threw a book at Shauna. "Wake up, wake up! I think we've got something!"

Shauna fell off the couch and then pushed herself to her feet. She hated being woken up. "What-what-what-what-WHAT?!"

"Get over here!"

She scrambled across the room and launched herself into her normal seat on one side of the desktop. Shauna peered through her blurry-eyed vision at the screen. There was a light bulb moment as she understood what she was reading. "Adam! That's it! That's it! That'll work! Make another sample! We've got to get to the lab and then call Mr. Wayne!" She let out a joyous yell and slid off the desk to go stand in front of the machine they'd been using to make samples of the serum.

Adam pressed the necessary buttons before joining his partner in crime. The clear liquid dispensed into the syringe with the normal gurgling sound. He grabbed the glass syringe once it was full, holding it protectively in his hand as they hurried into the brightly lit room where the test subjects were residing—rats, lots and lots of rats. Shauna pulled one of the screeching rodents out of their cages and placed it on the table, pulling the strap around his middle. Neither Shauna nor Adam really _liked _the idea of testing on animals, even rats, but they had tried just running simulations and got nothing. The serum was too weird, too different for the computer to run accurate simulations. Rats had proved the ideal subject due to the way their rapid metabolisms reacted with the increased rate of the delivery system in the concoction; results appeared almost immediately in the little creatures, and that was perfect for the rush Mr. Wayne seemed to be in.

Avoiding sharp little teeth, Adam injected the rat and then deposited the syringe in the proper waste bin, already filled with other failed attempts as it was. He and Shauna hunched over to watch the rodent.

Nothing happened.

"Did it work?" Shauna asked breathlessly.

"I don't know…" Adam held a picture of a different coloured rat in the test subject. They had proved before that male rats felt threatened by the picture and when they entered that state, the serum would take over. "Let's see…"

The silence they entered was tense. Adam and Shauna stared as the rat twitched. Nothing happened for a few, long minutes. Then, the roots of the rat's fur began to lighten and take on the white colour of the rat in the picture. Shauna bit her lip to keep from screaming, and it was a good thing she did. The rat remained the exact replica of the picture for a few more long, tense minutes and then things took a turn. The rat screeched, louder and more high-pitched than before. His back arched the wrong way and a chorus of nasty cracks filled the room. The white fur darkened to a dusty blue and then further deepened to a familiar shade of turquoise. The rat's eyes bulged red and, with a final scream, fell dead.

Adam and Shauna sagged against the desk. "Damn it," Adam whispered. "We were so close."

"Just got to keep trying, I guess…"

"What does he even want this for?!"

"I don't know Adam! I don't know, but we've got to keep trying; we've got to get this right. Whatever he wants it fixed for, it's important. Did you see the way his face was when he told us what he wanted us to do?" Shauna sighed and pulled her glasses off her face, pinching her nose between her forefinger and thumb. Her auburn hair fell in front of her face and her shoulders fell. She was tired. Exhausted. "I hate this as much as you, Adam. But we've got to finish this. Mr. Wayne said he wanted it inside of three months. We've already been at it for almost five weeks. We're close—that's a good sign. We've got lots of time to fine tune this baby." She looked up and smiled, returning her glasses to their perch on her face. Some of her energy seemed to have reappeared and her body was infused with the vibration that was her natural state. "So let's get back at it."

Adam couldn't help his mouth from turning up in a grin. "Let's do it."

* * *

Eleanor tossed her duffel bag on her bed and started throwing her most comfortable clothes into it without even bothering to fold them or anything. The clothing consisted mainly of denim and cotton, so it didn't really matter. She wasn't planning on going anywhere fancy, so she'd wear wrinkly clothing. At the urging of her mother, she did pack one dress, one skirt and two nice shirts, but that was it. Also in accordance with her mother's persisting she packed her makeup along with her other toiletries. As Naomi cleaned the fridge and cupboards of all perishable foods, Eleanor moved about her apartment, taking with her anything she thought she might miss while she was gone: books, movies, pictures of her family and friends, her stuffed bat from when she was little… She packed her laptop, all necessary cables and her mouse. Her phone, MP3 player… Everything she could think off. By the time she was done packing, it looked very much like she was trying to take her life in Gotham with her on her temporary absence.

"Honey, do you think you have enough bags?" Liam asked with a sarcastic lilt.

Eleanor rolled her eyes and smiled. "When I have I ever packed light?"

Liam nodded in concurrence before lifting too of the bags onto his shoulders and heading down to start loading up the car. He and Naomi wouldn't be driving Eleanor; they had just come to see her off. As he left, Blaze started barking and jumping at the door. Eleanor sunk to the floor and scratched her dog's ears, calming him.

"Are you sure the hotel doesn't mind me having a dog there for a while?"

"Honey, they don't mind. Blaze isn't a loud animal normally, and we're paying enough that they shouldn't complain." Naomi scratched Blaze's other ear. "You're a good dog, aren't you Blaze?"

Eleanor laughed and buried her face momentarily in her dog's fur as she hugged him. "I just don't want them to kick him out. Blaze will be the only one I have to talk to while I'm stuck there all alone."

"That's just because you're choosing to not meet anyone else. You should join a gym or something. Meet some new people." Naomi smiled. "Didn't you say something about joining a martial arts class? Wouldn't this be a perfect time? You don't have to work. You can concentrate on taking pictures, relaxing and learning how to defend yourself for when you come back." The red-headed woman raised an eyebrow at her daughter's disbelieving look. "What? Like I'd think you were going to move to Metropolis. Honey," she said, moving to her knees so she could take her daughter's face in her hands. "Honey, I know this is your place. I just want you to take some time. I need you to take some time."

Eleanor placed her good hand on her mother's arm and smiled, leaning into Naomi's hand. "I know Mom. I'm just being stubborn."

'You wouldn't be you if you didn't fight for what you wanted."

"If I wasn't a little annoying, you mean?"

"Well, I was trying to be nice about it, but sure." Naomi laughed and kissed her daughter's brow, drawing her into a tight embrace.

The moment was interrupted as Liam reentered the room, Bruce in tow, a pleasant smile on his face. Eleanor got to her feet and met him halfway, slipping her one arm around him in an awkward hug, trying to ignore the almost tangible happiness radiating from Naomi. He returned the gesture a little less awkwardly before pulling back just enough to look down at her. "Ready to go?" he asked, brushing some hair out of her face.

She forced herself to smile. "As ready as I'll ever be I guess."

Eleanor pulled on her coat and grabbed her bag-like purse. After everyone was similarly bundled and Liam had the last bag in his hand, the five occupants stepped into the hall where Eleanor locked the door. As they headed to the elevator, Blaze stuck to his master's side, even after three and a half weeks of being reunited. Outside in the parking lot, Liam loaded the last bag into the trunk, and then hugged and kissed his daughter before starting up his car. Naomi took a little longer to say goodbye and even started crying despite the whole thing originally being her idea. Once all the tears had been shed, the hugs and kissed exchanged, Eleanor let Blaze into the back seat before climbing into the passenger side and settling back into the car. She kicked her boots off and crossed her legs; the drive to Metropolis was three hours at least so why not be comfortable?

"So you've got everything right?"

Eleanor pulled the small black phone out of her bag—the device she'd dubbed the Batphone—and waved it towards him. "I have this and all the other things you gave me and yes, I have everything else. All the _normal _stuff."

Bruce smiled. "Good."

* * *

**Author's Note… **So it's short, but it's just a kind of lead-in and a teaser of what's too come. Enjoy.

Thanks again to everyone who read and loved this fic. Here's some news:

I'm aiming to have the sequel up and running somewhere in the middle of **Chances Are **although, it could be up sooner, depending how things pan out for me with school and how much time I end up with. Right now, I'll be concentrating on **Chances Are **because it needs some love, and people seem to like that one too. But never fear, there will always be a Batman fic on the go from me. But anyway, here's a bit of a preview.

**Joke's On You**, a sequel to **Reflection of His Enemy**.

The Joker has escaped from Arkam Asylum again, intent on wrecking havoc on Gotham City and the Batman. But, upon his return to the city, he discovers the Batman has an accomplice and an idea starts to form in his head. Get a hold of the accomplice, get the Batman's identity, kill the Batman. Simple, right? Maybe if said accomplice wasn't completely devoted to the Dark Knight. The Joker gets his hands on this new figure in Gotham and to save her, Batman must enlist the help of others new to his city. With a bevy of new faces, what chaos will ensue?

Haha, that's all you get. I'm not telling you who all the characters are going to be, but this is going to be an adventure for me, writing many more characters than I ever have before. Wish me luck!

Cheers,  
Batchild.


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